


Rune Factory 5: The Wooly Revolution

by l_ermite



Category: Rune Factory (Video Games)
Genre: Amnesia, F/M, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, Mostly Gen, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Shippy Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-07-03 01:55:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15808968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/l_ermite/pseuds/l_ermite
Summary: Elle woke up just outside of Laine without any of her memories. The townspeople are welcoming enough, but there's something off in the woods. Can Elle help the town and bring back the magic that has abandoned this land? Join Elle in the little coastal town of Laine as she faces monsters, mayhem, and some fairly cryptic townspeople.Started as a way to bemoan the fact that we were never getting a Rune Factory 5 BUT GUESS WHO WAS WRONG. ME. IT WAS ME.





	1. Spring 1, Year 1

I woke up to rain. It splattered across my face and dripped down my neck. The sky above me was a blurry blue-gray between the feathered foliage of overhanging trees. For a moment I just allowed myself to breathe. There was an ache in my head, near the base of my skull and crawling toward the top. The air was cold. It sat like the last dregs of winter in my mouth. The ground beneath my back made me shiver. Oddly, it was dry. Pieces clicked together. I must have been lying there before it started raining. 

How had I gotten there? Had I meant to-

Blond hair and blue eyes suddenly popped into my view. “You alright?” a young man asked, his eyebrow quirked in a curious face of concern. A brown headband did little to tame the sunny spikes protruding from his scalp. He looked like a traveler of some kind. He offered a hand to help me up. 

I took it, looking around at my surroundings. It was a forest, densely populated. I could hear birds, monsters, and other small animals rustling in the underbrush. 

Oddly, though, it did nothing to remind me of how I got there. Or why I was there in the first place. 

Or, I realized with horror, who I was. 

“Can you talk at all?” the man tried again. Now that I was standing, I could see that he was shorter than I expected. He stood at least four inches shorter than me. That wasn’t normal-- was it?

I blinked at him. “I-- yeah.” I ran through a few ways to broach the subject with him. Did he know who I was? Was I supposed to know him? 

“Do I know you?” I asked finally. 

The man smiled as if I had made a joke. “Hmm?” he shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. I was just heading to Laine up the way and saw you here. Did you hit your head?” 

I rubbed my head experimentally. Sure enough, there was a sore patch right on the crown of my scalp. I winced. 

The man nodded sympathetically. “Let’s head into town together.” He shivered slightly in the cold. His head tilted to the side and he made a strange face. “Sounds to me like you’ve got some amnesia.” He smiled reassuringly at me. “But I’m sure there’s a place up ahead where you can live out the rest of your life in relative peace without anyone from your previous life ever showing up.” He started walking before I had a chance to figure out any of the words he had just said. Had he started speaking a different language while I wasn’t paying attention? 

“Wait what?” I asked as I jogged to catch up with him. 

“I’m Micah,” he said cheerily as he continued to walk through the forest. “Do you remember your name?”

“Uhhh….” Did I remember my name? “It’s Elle.” 

“Elle? Nice name,” he said brightly. “And, if you don't mind my asking, are you a guy or girl?”

I made a face without thinking, starting at Micah in disbelief. “What?” He just stared at my face as calm as can be as if he hadn't just asked one of the oddest questions I had ever heard in my life. 

Which, considering I could only remember the past few minutes, didn't say much. I sighed. “A girl.” 

“Awesome!” He smiled. “Do you remember your birthday?” 

“Ah…” no. I did not. “Maybe the beginning of winter?” 

“Sounds good!” His smile broadened as he pointed ahead to a place where the trees suddenly cleared. “Look! There's Laine!”

We broke through the last line of trees. For the briefest moment, the world seemed to hang on a breath, my heart hovering between one beat and the next. Mist hung low over the rolling grasslands, leading down toward a small village near the coastline’s edge. A cluster of buildings were huddled together against the chill from a spring breeze carried from across the ocean. Some were small, homes perhaps. Others were robust and comparatively full of life-- smoke curling from chimneys and doors fearlessly tossed open in defiance of the chill. 

“It’s beautiful,” I said quietly, my voice lost in a gust of wind. 

I glanced at Micah at my side. His eyebrows were knit together in a look of confusion. “Something’s not right,” he muttered. He took off at a run down the path that led to the cluster of sea-worn buildings. 

Without thinking, I followed him. What did he mean something wasn’t right? Did he live there? Were we about to run into a mess? 

Probably. But I followed him regardless.

We arrived in the town, breathing heavy. I curled forward with my hands on my knees as I struggled to be able to ask one of the thousands of questions that were starting to bubble into my mind. Micah was looking around as if he expected to be greeted by someone or something. 

When I finally thought I might be able to say something, a scream interrupted my intake of breath. 

I turned my head this way and that, looking for the source. There were sturdy wooden structures like homes or businesses, but it took me a moment before I found the person who was screaming. It was a group of children playing outside the porch of one of the bigger buildings. About half a dozen of them were chasing one another. A small, dark-skinned boy was at the head of the pack, running away from the other five with a stick in his hand. 

“Jerome! Get back here!”

“Big Bully- gimme back my stick!”

“Heeee~eey!!!! That’s not yours, it’s my turn!” 

“Get him!!!” 

The kids ran until they came running toward me. For a second I wondered if they would stop. They didn’t and my second of hesitation was a second too long. For the second time in all of the half an hour of my life, I found myself looking up at the sky with gentle water drops finding their way into the awkward crevasses of my neck. 

“Ah now,” said a wizened voice, thick with sarcastic intent. “Look what y’all did. You nearly killed this poor girl.” 

“It’s Jerome’s fault!” said a different voice. “He took my stick!” 

I sat up, blinking and trying to again make sense of my surroundings. An old man, judging by the wrinkles in his skin and the white hairs on his head, stood with crossed arms and an expression that told me I was in trouble. He wore simple but hardy clothes, he looked like a worker of some kind, like a blacksmith or carpenter. He also had that air of authority that told me I should probably respect him or find myself in a world of social inconvenience. 

_ But why the heck am I in trouble? _ I wondered.  _ I’m the one they knocked over!  _

“Maybe less poor than just stupid,” the man said, nodding to himself. “That’s what you get for standing there like a gaping fish.” 

_ Don’t agree with yourself! _ I thought bitterly, standing and trying, vainly, to brush the mud off my clothes. It occurred to me that I hadn’t noticed what I was wearing earlier. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to think about it now either. 

“You alright, Elle?” Micah asked, seeming to have only just realized that I had fallen. 

“I'm fine,” I said, not sure if I really was. 

“Good,” he said. He turned his attention to the old man. “Is there a shrine or temple or anything nearby?”

“You need to make a confession?” The man squinted at Micah. 

“ _ Ignore _ him,” a new voice said behind us. We turned to the newcomer, an old woman was standing there with a small child on either side of her. She was elderly more than old. She seemed like the stately kind of woman who took charge of almost any situation. She wore a long green-gray dress with a high neck and long sleeves. Her hands were folded in front of her nicely. I envied the neat way she tied up her hair. My hair kept falling into my face no matter how many times I pushed it back. 

“I tend the shrine here,” the woman continued. She shot a look at the old man and sniffed. “Rooty’s just a lazy sack of bones.”

I glanced at the man, wondering if this was normal. I didn't really have much to compare it to. But the words didn’t seem to sting their intended recipient. 

The old man, Rooty, smiled sardonically in response. “Sally.” the way he said her name made me think they were probably old friends. “Wonderful to see your rheumatism kept you from bringing the kids on time.” He paused. “Again.”

“Old coot,” she sniffed. Gently, she nudged the children toward the building. 

“In any case,” the woman said, keeping an eye on the children as they ran past me, Micah and Rooty. “If you need to see the shrine, I'd be happy to show you.” She bowed respectfully, finally turning her eye to Micah. “I'm Salina.”

Micah’s shoulders fell in relief. “Thanks a bunch,” he said as his face fell into a smile. He looked at me and gestured to Rooty. “You should probably stay here. I bet Rooty knows where the farm is.”

I blinked. “What farm?” I asked. Had we been looking for a farm? Was I forgetting something? 

He laughed as if it hadn't occurred to him that this needed explaining. “The farm where you'll be living from here on out.” He waved as he hurried to follow after Salina, leaving me there with more and more questions by the moment. 

I looked back at Rooty. He was scratching his head. He looked at me. “You're here to start a farm?” He asked dubiously. He eyed me in a way that said he didn’t think I was suited to the farm life.

I shrugged. “I don't know. He found me unconscious in the woods. I don't remember how I got there or where I'm from or anything else for that matter.”

Rooty grunted and started to turn back down the road. “Well, your friend wasn't lying. There's a farm just over that way that hasn't been tended to in years.” He turned back to see that I was following. “C’mon, follow me.” 

“Waaiiitt!!! Jerome still hasn't given me back the stick! It's  _ my _ turn!!” 

Rooty turned sharply toward the child who spoke. “You had better get in to Miss Charity. You know how she gets if you're late.”

All the children suddenly stiffened before taking off at a full sprint toward the schoolhouse. I wondered briefly what kind of woman Miss Charity was, but then Rooty was walking off again. I had to jog to keep up with him. How was an old man so fast?

“The farm's this way. There's a little house attached to it that no one’s using. I don't know if it has any furniture or anything but you're welcome to have it.” His words flowed so quickly I hardly had the brain power to interpret them. “The seed shop’s owner’s been out of town for a while. Their son is taking care of it for the time being. A no-good delinquent, if truth be told, but there you have it. Luckily he's got that girl keeping an eye on him, but she's as naive as they come. You’ll find the shop if you poke around town for a bit. The carpenter’s shop is open, but I don't know what services they're offering this time of year.”

He kept up a rattling account of names and shops and places in town with a solid complaint against each of them. Somehow, even though his words were harsh, I got the impression he was quite proud of his town. 

“And if you know anything about monsters, then you’d be welcome to try to cross the forest. But if ya don’t then steer clear. It’s a dangerous place these days what with--.” he coughed suddenly, interrupting himself. “What with everything.” 

“What do you me--?”

“And here we are!” he interrupted me, gesturing to a dilapidated shack beside a weed-infested field of stumps and boulders. 

It struck me that the area outside of town, the way that Micah and I had come into the town proper, would be much better suited to farming, but I decided to say nothing so not to seem ungrateful. Rooty looked at me expectantly as if either waiting for my complete dismay or complete adoration. I settled for a half-hearted, “Wow.” 

Rooty turned away, but not before I saw a smile form on his face. “This’ll be your home from now on. Take good care of it.” He started to return the way we had come. “If you need me, I’ll call ya.” He waved without looking back. 

“Wait, what?!” I looked after him, rooted to the spot. He just kept waving and walking until he was out of sight. I looked back at the shack. A large blackbird swooped overhead and lighted on the crest of the roof. 

“What?” I said, quieter, to myself. I stood there staring for a long moment. More birds flew around. My head began to throb painfully and I shivered with a cold breeze that tore through the dress I wore.  

I made my way to the little hut. At least the wind wouldn’t be able to reach me inside, right? 

Surprisingly, the inside was much cozier than the outside might lead one to believe. It was only a single room with a small washroom attached to one side. There was a small space with a table and a single three-legged stool to the left of the front door. To the right, there was an old mattress on a wooden frame. A small apple crate was placed next to it with a single candle stub and a worn book. 

I moved toward the book, curious. Inside was a diary belonging to someone named Cucumber who had run a farm there a long time ago. Without hesitation, I tore out the pages belonging to Cucumber and began to write my own entry, explaining everything that had happened to me thus far. 

Just as I finished, my door was thrown open. The roof shuddered and dust flitted down from the ceiling. I froze, fearing that the house would fall down on top of me. Then I saw Micah standing there in the doorway, eyes wild and a giant grin on his face. “Holy Native Dragons, Elle, you’ve got to see this!” 

He paused when he saw me with the open book in my lap. He grinned. “Oh, hey! You found the diary! So Rooty already explained everything to you about the farm, yeah?” 

“Ah,” I closed the book, not wanting Micah to see my descriptions of him. “No, not really. But I think I’ve got the gist of this part at least.”

“Well lemme explain the rest reeally quick, then-- you’re absolutely not gonna believe it-- anyway--.” 

He shot off in an explanation that was almost entirely lost on me. At first he said things like “check through your inventory with the [L] button” and then “equip with the [A] button” and “You can use it with the [B] button, but be careful because sometimes you’ll get stuck using a move and get killed by a monster mid-stroke.”

I stared at him blankly until he was done, physically feeling the words bounce right off my head. He finally finished miming a stroke from a weapon of some kind and put his hands on his hips. “Make sense?” he asked. 

My head fell to my hands and I wished that I had never regained consciousness. “How did you make that sound  _ with your mouth _ ?” 

Micah ignored me and turned toward a chest I hadn’t noticed against the far wall of my hut. “Oh, hey,” he said, moving closer to it, “I bet this has your farming equipment.” He opened it and started rummaging through it. 

Horrifyingly, the sounds that came from it sounded significantly more echo-y than they should have for a container so small. I moved to examine the chest over Micah’s shoulder. My mouth fell open. Inside, the box was significantly wider and deeper than it should have been.

“ _ How _ -?” 

“I know,” Micah said in a tone of weary dismay. “But it’s always like this.” He pulled out an ax that definitely shouldn’t have fit inside the box to begin with. He examined it and sighed discontentedly. “This couldn’t cut a twig, let alone a tree.” 

I sighed, realizing I had expected his answer this time. 

“Don’t worry,” he said, patting my shoulder as he misinterpreted my exasperation. “I’m sure the blacksmith in town can help you upgrade them eventually.” 

I hummed in response, wanting nothing more than to sink into unconsciousness and hope that this was all just a bad dream. Micah seemed to notice my despair. He sighed, glancing out the open door. “Well, I guess it can wait until tomorrow,” he said. “Why don’t you get some rest? I’ll be back tomorrow morning to help you figure out the farming stuff-- heck, I bet I can find you some seeds from the shop in town as well!” 

With that, he turned on his heel, smiling back as he shut the door softly. “Sleep well!” 

I listened to the crunch of his boots against stone as he walked away toward town. Eventually, they faded into the cawing of birds and the whistle of the wind over my rooftop. Wearily, I turned on my bed so I was sitting on my knees and facing the window. I gently pulled the dusty curtain back, worried that the touch would cause the gentle fabric to disintegrate. 

The scene outside was just as it had been when I’d first seen it-- bleak. From this angle, I could see the rickety wooden fence that marked the edge of the cliff. I made a mental note to never wander too close-- or fix up the wall later when I knew more about that kind of thing. 

With the window open, I curled up on the mattress. It felt stiff and musty. As I closed my eyes, I wondered if maybe I’d regain my memories once I woke up. Maybe I’d know my way home. Maybe I’d remember my family…. Maybe I’d… Maybe…. Remember.

 

The sun’s fading light threw a perfect square of light into my face, waking me with some gentle warmth. I pulled the curtain closed, blinking until I could see again. The small room was a warm orange now. I noticed things I hadn't before: the small fireplace in one corner, the large mirror on the wall beside the washroom. 

Slowly, I sat up. My head didn't ache as much, to my great relief. 

Sadly, I still remembered nothing from before I woke up in the forest. The thought left me feeling somewhat melancholic. I took a deep breath. Better to mourn it now and accept my lot then let it fester for later. 

I might have a family somewhere. They might come looking for me. Or they might not. I might have people waiting for me. Or I might not. In the end, whatever happened in regards to my past, this place was my new home. And I would make the most of it. 

I recorded these thoughts in my diary. I didn't realize I was crying until the ink began to blur. 

What made it all the worse was the fact that I didn't even know what I was mourning. I didn't know what I was supposed to be missing. I didn't know what home I had left behind or what friends I had now abandoned. 

But all the same. All the same. I had a new life. New people. I could be happy here. I just had to try, right? 

My stomach growled, interrupting my soliloquy. I winced, wondering where I'd be able to get food. The hut didn't look particularly well-stocked. I began to pat the sides of my dress. Maybe I had pockets and money inside of them. 

Sure enough, I found a store of money in my inventory with just about three thousand gold pieces. I hoped that would be enough for a meal in town. And some seeds. Maybe tomorrow I’d be able to get a start on fixing the farm. 

I stood and stretched. My back popped. I winced. Moving toward the washroom, I caught a glimpse of myself for the first time in my memory. 

I was obviously a woman. Micah’s question came back to my mind and I made a face. The dress I wore was well-cared for if not just a bit dirty. I could see places where someone-- myself, perhaps?-- had patched the seams and tears. It fell past my knees where I could see my torn stockings. They were knit with some kind of twisting pattern around my calves. Boots that laced up just past my ankle were tied onto my feet. They seemed scuffed and a little worn, but in good condition overall. 

“So that’s what I look like,” I said, finally looking up at my face. There were splotches where dirt had clung to the rain on my face. My hair, probably a dusty brown, was currently just dusty. It might have been in a braid at some point, but I looked a bit like a wild child. 

For a moment, looking into my eyes, I thought there was something wrong with them. But the moment passed. They were a deep fuschia color. Pinkish, but maybe that was just the setting light. 

I moved to the washroom to clean myself off slightly. Maybe even brush my hair. I found the room to be better stocked than I had first anticipated. There were even some old, worn clothes. They were cleaner than what I was wearing so I put them on. It wasn’t anything flattering, but it seemed that I might be able to sew, so maybe I could take them in a little to fit me better. 

I set my dirty clothes aside with the intent to wash them later when I returned. My stomach hurried me along toward the town again. Feeling refreshed and ready to eat the best meal that a poor amnesiac could afford, I threw open the door--

Only to have someone knock against my forehead with a sharp knuckle. 

I spluttered and ducked, rubbing my forehead. 

“Oh, gods, I’m so sorry-- I didn’t-- gods--.” 

“Ahh,” I hissed. This kid had the knuckles of a palm cat. I blinked at the wood floors beneath my boots. Did I know what a palm cat was? 

“Are you alright?” 

I finally looked up at the man on my doorstep. His face was golden with the setting sun. His hair was sandy, nearly blending in with his skin. His purple shirt glinted with silver threads. He was tall and reasonably built, not gangly nor threateningly large. All that being said, if he wanted to pick a fight, I was pretty sure I could take him. 

“Mmm, yeah,” I said, straightening. “Er… Sorry about that.”

His eyes widened comically. “What? No,  _ I’m _ sorry! I shouldn’t have--- gods, I’m so sorry. I should have been paying attention.” He was waving his hands. I found myself smiling at him. He was cute. 

A blush spread across his face. “Really, I-- sorry-- I’m here because Granny Sal sent me. She said you’d probably be hungry and Rooty forgot to feed you before dropping you off and she’s with the twins right now and Rooty’s at the orphanage, of course, and-- gods, I’m rambling I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s alright,” I laughed for the first time. I noticed the box in his hands. “Is that for me?” 

“Yes!” he said as if he had just remembered. With his arms stiff as sticks, he extended the box toward me. “It’s a dinner-- and there’s probably enough for breakfast tomorrow as well.” 

I accepted the box. “Thank you, I was just thinking I was hungry.” My stomach growled to emphasize my point. 

“I- uh.” from his other hand he lifted a second box. “Sal gave me one as well so that I could join you if you don’t mind the company?” 

I blinked in surprise. Given what I had seen of Sal-- well, I had only seen her for a minute. Maybe she made a habit of making sure no one ate by themselves. “Of course not,” I replied. 

I didn’t need to glance behind me to see the dusty, unwelcoming interior of my home. “Shall we eat outside?” 

“Sure!” he beamed, clearly relieved that I had accepted. “There’s a place over there--,” he pointed toward the cliff, “--where a lot of us like to come to watch the sea. It’s a nice spot, is it okay if we eat there?” 

As nervous as I was about the cliff and the rickety fence, I followed him there. The fence was even more rickety than I had imagined. Pieces of wood were just a nudge away from falling to the churning water below. He led me past the fence, around to a little flight of stairs leading down to a large shelf of sand and grass. 

“Sometimes Will comes here to fish,” he explained. “Juliette and I come with him every now and again. It’s also a great spot for the fireworks festival next month. We don’t talk about it in town though, Rooty goes off on us hard if we do. He doesn’t want the kids thinking that it’s okay to get this close to the cliff.” 

I nodded as if I understood what he was saying while we found our way to a rickety bench against the cliff face. Then I realized I had no idea who he was talking about, apart from Rooty and the kids. “I’m sorry, who are Will and Juliette?” 

The man, who still hadn’t introduced  _ himself _ either, laughed self-consciously. “Right, sorry, I forgot that you haven’t met everyone in town yet.” He opened the box of his dinner and began eating as he explained. “Will, Juliette, and I all work at Charlie’s Inn. Will’s-- well, he’s  _ supposed _ to be an entertainer, a juggler, but he’s more of a glorified waiter.” He chuckled again. “Juliette helps me with the music sometimes, but she’s more of a hostess. She’s kind of like the face of the Inn.”

“So you’re a musician?” I asked, not really wanting to take my attention away from the best meal I could ever remember having. If Sal’s cooking was this good, then I think any sense of melancholy would be lost with my expanding waistline. 

“Mm-Hm,” he said around a bite. “I stick to the piano for the most part-- you should hear Juliette on the violin, though. She’s incredibly talented!” 

I glanced at him. The tone in his voice, he was so proud of his friend. He also seemed the type to deflect any sort of compliment away from himself. Again, I wondered, how do I know that?

“I’m sorry,” I said suddenly, hoping to finally get his name. “I never introduced myself. I’m Elle.”

He blinked at me in surprise. “I knew--” his face changed suddenly. “Oh! I didn’t introduce myself either, I’m so sorry!” He shifted to turn toward me and bowed slightly. “I’m Hammond, it’s an honor to meet you, Elle.”

“Me, as well, Hammond,” I smiled at him. 

He chatted more about the townsfolk. I heard another half dozen names that seemed to just slip through my mind without any sort of intention of staying there. He was very animated as he spoke, very enthusiastic about all the wonderful qualities of everyone in the town. His voice had such a gentle quality. It was pleasing to hear. 

The sun sank past the horizon, setting the mist aflame as it said it’s final adieu. Hammond had been right, it was a very nice spot. The temperature was still chilly, but I could see the summers passing with townsfolk celebrating at the cliff’s edge. It was oddly… idyllic. 

“I should probably get going,” Hammond said as the night began to settle in a fair shade of lavender. He collected both of our boxes (neither of us had left enough leftovers worth saving) and tucked them under his arm. “I’ll walk you back to your house.” 

“Thank you,” I said. “And thank you for bringing these, the food and company were both much needed.” 

Another blush formed across his face. “Ah! You’re welcome!” 

I watched his retreating form disappear toward town again. I leaned against the bottom half of the door-- which Hammond had shown me how to separate. I wondered if the towns folk really were as wonderful as he had painted them to be. I hoped I could see them as optimistically as he did.


	2. Spring 2, Year 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Elle meets the other townspeople, some plot is established, and awkwardness is achieved.

I woke up the next morning full of energy and ready to start work on my new life. I dug through the weird tool chest in my room for all the necessary tools. Like Micah had pointed out, they were old and cracked in so many places and looked like they were one bad hit away from falling apart. 

It was raining again outside. I felt a ridiculous smile spread across my face as I stared at the dismal accumulation of wild growth that was somehow supposed to be my livelihood. It looked like a long day ahead of me. 

I found a box near the edge of what I assumed to be my property. I began tossing weeds and loose branches inside of it. It had that same kind of magical quality that made my tool chest able to hold things so much larger than its own volume. I was able to fit all the weeds, branches, and even the boulders as I broke them down into smaller, more moveable bits. 

I wiped rain out of my eyes. I was absolutely drenched, but there was a solid clear patch of land trailing along one side of the path that led from my home to town. I prepared it for seeding by hoeing straight lines all the way down. Now, I just needed to go into town to get the seeds. 

I considered going to change, but since I’d just be doing more farming later, I decided I might as well just run to town without caring that I looked even worse than when Micah had found me in the woods. 

I nearly sprinted to town. When I think about this, I consider that it was a fairly stupid decision and the person I inevitably slid into, knocking into the mud, was entirely justified in their fury. 

“AUGH!!” a woman’s voice yelped as she was pushed face-first into the mud by me. 

“GAhhh!!!” I yelped as well as I tumbled over her, sliding in the mud away from her by about two feet. I twisted back to see if she was alright. “I am so sorry!” I said, choking back half a laugh. 

“You  _ absolute idiot! _ ” she snapped, clumsily pulling herself up and examining her front that was now plastered with mud. “Look what you’ve  _ done! _ ” She tried to rub the mud away from her glasses but just made it worse by her efforts. “UGH!” 

“I’m so sorry,” I stumbled toward her. “Are you alright?” 

“Do I  _ look _ al _ right _ to you?!” she demanded, glaring at me with all the ferocity of someone how was not to be messed with. “What were you  _ thinking _ ?”

“I’m so sorry-- you’re right,” I said, wincing. “I should have been looking where I was going. Sorry.” 

“Charity, are you--?” We both turned to the sound. There was Rooty, looking dryly disappointed. “Of course it’d be you.”

_ Me?! _ He’s only known me for a day and a half! 

“Mr. Rutabaga,” she said huffily. She pointed at me. “Due to some unforeseen circumstances. I will be late to the lesson this afternoon. Would you mind notifying Tom?” 

_ She’s not even talking about me?  _

“Yeah, I’ll get someone to tell him,” Rooty sighed. Charity turned sharply on her heels and headed in a different direction, away from the schoolhouse and likely toward wherever she was living. 

He looked over at me as Charity left. He raised one bushy white eyebrow. “Well, you heard her. Go on.” 

“What?!” My voice was more squawky than I had anticipated. “Why me?” 

He grinned, his eyes wrinkling at the corners. “‘Cos you’re here. Go on. The schoolhouse is just to the right of the orphanage, just down Laine Lane.”

“Laine Lane?” I repeated. 

Rooty nodded. “Just that way,” he nodded in no particular direction. “I’m off to the Shrine to tell Sally off for sending her boys to school without an umbrella. Later.” 

“Oh, ehr-- right.” I turned in the arbitrary direction Rooty had nodded. The rain was still falling, I was still coated in mud. 

Eventually, given enough confusion, I was able to find a sign that said Laine Schoolhouse in faded letters. I moved to the door beneath it. Inside, I was met by chaos. Children were running in circles, chasing each other between desks. The oldest person in the room, a teenager with spotted skin and frizzy brown hair, was attempting to establish order. 

He froze at the sound of the door opening. The children froze with him. Immediately, two of the children screamed. “Minotaur!” they yelled. There was the sound of a small stampede as the children ran to cower behind the teen. 

The young man sighed, a little relieved that at least they weren’t yelling anymore. “Guys, it’s not--.”

“Tom!” a little girl with coffee skin and golden eyes reproached him. “You’ve gotta beat up the monster!” 

“Yeah!” said several of the other children. “Beat it up!”

“She’s the new earthmate!” Tom snapped, exasperatedly. “Not a monster!” 

The children were quiet. They blinked between Tom and me. “Really?” said the little girl again. “Are you sure?” 

I didn’t really know what an ‘earthmate’ was, but if it was better than being a minotaur then I wasn’t going to complain. I waved quietly. “Hello. I’m Elle. Sorry for scaring you.”

“You’re covered in mud!” said one of the boys. I recognized him as the boy from yesterday. Jerome. 

“I…” I glanced at my soiled dress. “I’m covered in mud,” I finished. “That’s actually why I’m here- I ran into Ms. Charity on my way in and she said she’d be late. She asked me to let you,” I looked pointedly at the teen, “know.” 

A look of panic crossed Tom’s face. The children began cheering and chasing each other again. I watched as the will to live exited Tom’s body. I winced, moving closer to him to apologize.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I should have--.”

Tom was already waving away my apology. “No worries.” He leaned back against what I assumed to be Charity’s desk. “It’s just how the kids are. They’ll shape up when Charity gets back. Was she alright?” 

“Ye-es,” I said haltingly, watching as the children started playing ‘heroes and monsters’. “I… ran into her.”

“So you said,” Tom smiled as if thinking I was just distracted by the children. Then his face fell. “You-- wait, you don’t mean you  _ really _ .”

“Yeah,” I said slowly. “She face-planted. She wanted to go wash off before coming back to class.”

Tom let out a loud and awkward laugh. Some of the children looked at him curiously before going back to their game. “That’s rich,” he said. “Oh, she must have been  _ furious _ .” 

“She was,” I said, trying not to laugh. 

Tom glanced at me, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t worry about it too much. She’s a little rough when you first meet her, but she grows on you.” 

“How long have you known her?” I asked, assuming that he either was or had been a student there. 

“About three years,” he said, watching as the kids tried to use the books to build a fortress around their base. He tilted his head fondly. “Rooty had hoped that I would take over when I graduated, but I was no good for it. Now I just help out where I can.” 

“When you graduated?” I repeated. How old was he? For some reason, my brain seemed to think that he was too young for the term. “When was that?” 

He grinned at me. “Three years ago.” Absently, he flicked at a piece of dust on his sleeve. “I know I look like I’m twelve, but I’m actually turning twenty-one next season.” 

I blinked. Had I been that obvious? “I didn’t mean--.”

“No worries,” he waved the comment away good-naturedly. “Besides, it means I get away with things most people my age can’t.” 

I nodded. “Makes sense.”

I was about to make a further comment, maybe ask where the seed shop was or ask why there were so many children in an orphanage in the middle of nowhere, but I was interrupted by the door being thrown open and a suspiciously well-timed flash of lightning illuminating the silhouette of Charity as she made her entrance. 

“Ope,” Tom said, face falling. “She’s back.” 

I made my escape while Charity was busied with scaring the children into submission. I glanced at the mud I was trailing across the wood floors but didn’t do anything about it except worry that it would cause Tom more trouble. 

It was raining harder. Under the porch of the schoolhouse, it sounded like a hundred angry tap dancers were having a concert on the roof. Lightning sparked across the sky intermittently. Thunder followed only moments after. For a moment I wondered if I had ever been afraid of thunder. 

Well. I wasn’t now. 

I moved toward Laine Lane once more.

 

I finished my planting before three in the afternoon, just as the rain finally cleared. I had had the sense to buy some food before leaving town and was able to make my way back to the beach shelf and sit cross-legged on the bench to enjoy a late lunch. 

It wasn’t until I was sitting there, enjoying curry and rice, that I realized I still hadn’t seen Micah all day. Had he told me to meet him somewhere? I had thought he had told me he would come by in the morning. 

I shrugged to myself. Maybe I’d walk around town and hope to bump into him. Maybe he’d gotten lost and developed amnesia and was now starting a farm somewhere. Who knew? 

I finished the meal and returned to my hut. I stood outside of it, examining the possibilities. I could probably reinforce the walls a bit with some support beams and insulation. That might help to keep the chill out at night. 

I tore a page from my diary and began to sketch a floor plan of my ultimate goal. If I ever found a place that sold windows, I could add a few more here or there. And the extra space for cooking would be nice whenever I got around to getting cooking equipment. 

The room shuddered as the door flew open. I brushed away the dust that fell onto my schematics. “Elle!” 

I blinked at a panting Micah as he half collapsed on the floor. “There you are!” I said before I had thought it through. “I wondered where you’d gotten to.” 

He made a face at me. He seemed half-annoyed with the way he stuck his tongue out at me. “I was waiting for you at the Shrine! Why didn’t you come to check it out?”

“Shrine?” I repeated, putting my journal down and stuffing my schematics back inside. “What shrine?” 

“ _ Ugh _ !” He groaned as if this were the most painful thing he had ever done. “The town’s shrine? Up on the opposite side of town? You were supposed to come poking around!” 

I felt my eyebrows push together. “I was?” I asked. “I thought you said you--.” 

“C’ _ mon,  _ Elle,” he sank to his knees. “That’s not how the game  _ works _ .”

“What game?” I blinked. Was this a game to him? My amnesia and everything? 

He just laughed bitterly, looking off into the distance. 

I let it slide. It wasn’t worth getting upset over. Probably. “How was I supposed to know where the shrine was?” I tried again. 

“You were supposed to go see Sally! Didn’t you want to thank her for the dinner she sent with Hammond yesterday?!” 

I found myself agreeing with that. I probably should have gone to see Sally, or even Hammond, and either of them would have gotten me in the right direction. My eyebrows knit together again. “Wait-- you knew about that?” 

“Yeah, of course, I’m your tutorial guide,” he said exasperatedly. “I know everything-- at least for the next two days. Then I know absolutely nothing of use for you.” He stood suddenly, holding the door open with an expression like daggers. “Now. There’s something. You really. Need. To see.” 

I got the hint. Sighing, I stood up and followed him back to town. It was a long walk, only made longer by Micah’s pointed silence. I mean, really, if he had wanted me to show up he could have  _ told  _ me. On our way out the other side of town, we passed the Inn. Hammond was standing there with two others I hadn’t met yet. I assumed the woman with voluminous curls was Juliette and then the man was likely to be Will. They were chatting amiably and didn’t notice us as we passed. I wondered if I’d be able to stop in to introduce myself after Micah had finished showing me whatever it was he was he seemed so intent on showing me. 

He led the way to the forest. It was likely a part of the same forest he had found me in, but a completely different direction. There were old stone stairs lined by lanterns that had yet to be lit. Moss grew in random cracks and crevices. 

Strangely, and in a way that drained any light-hearted notions from my mind and replaced them with a heightened sense of awareness, I became aware of something in the air. It was light, like the smell of flowers in a breeze. If I wasn’t paying attention, I might have missed it. I couldn’t put my figure on it. It wasn’t a smell or some visible change, nor was it something I could hear in an increase or decrease of volume. 

But the feeling filled me with unease. I glanced around sharply, trying to be aware of everything happening. Birds still chirped. Animals and monsters alike rustled in the underbrush. They seemed to sense nothing of it. 

Finally, the stairs ended and I found myself on a pavilion with a single stone structure stretching up to the sky. The tall building had curling wood accents along the facade that faced us. It gave the whole area a kind of ethereal look, enhanced by the late afternoon light that hit it straight on, illuminating every facet and curl, making the wood shine like gold. The rain left droplets dripping, sparkling, off of the staggered rooftops like shooting stars in a night sky. 

I felt my knees falter. Micah caught my elbow and helped me up, but I could see that he was trembling too. The negative feeling was increasing. It felt like… like quicksand or the slow pull of fatigue. It drained me of strength, left me wondering what was missing. 

“This place should be producing runeys like crazy,” Micah said in a subdued voice. “But something is eating them up faster than they can be produced.” He moved forward. I followed. Our steps echoed in the silence. 

It felt like an eternity. Visually, I knew that the path toward the shrine itself was no longer than the path from town to my home, but it felt so much more fatiguing. I struggled to keep my eyes open. 

“What are runeys?” I asked as we stood before a set of impressive wood doors covered with intricate red and gold designs. The doors depicted a shower of little floating figures that seemed to be falling from the sky. They looked like fairies or fireflies. As I asked the question, I got the sense that their absence was what caused such a spiritual drain on this land and at this shrine. 

I felt my resolve harden. I added, “And how can we get them back?” 

Micah glanced at me appreciatively. “They’re like… spirits of the land. They help tend the soil. When the soil is good, they make it better. When the soil is too poor, they move elsewhere.”

“So improve the soil?” I asked, for clarification. I needed to commit this to memory. I would do everything in my power to make this right.  

Micah nodded, his eyes now raised to the top of the building. “Improve it. Work it. Assist the runeys and they will come in greater numbers than before. Build unity in the town. They should come back then.” 

“Unity in the town?” I asked, not immediately dismissing the idea but a little confused as to the mechanics of it. “How does that help the soil?”

Micah shrugged. He turned away from the building and looked at me. He seemed so much older now as if this were a war and he didn’t want to have to fight again. “I don’t pretend to know everything about them,” he admitted, “but I know that they value hard work and unity. I’ve found that when I’m closer to the townsfolk of Sharance that they appear more frequently.” 

It hadn’t really occurred to me that Micah was from another town. “Sharance,” I repeated. “That’s where you’re from?” 

Micah nodded with a little self-conscious smile. He fiddled with a bracelet on his wrist. “Mostly. Like you, I was found with amnesia. It’s a bit of a long story, but Sharance is where my family is.”

“Family,” I repeated the word to see how it felt in my mouth. I thought about how I’d like that kind of life too. I’d like to find that here, in Laine. Maybe. 

Micah turned to head back away from the shrine. I followed him. “Have you started farming yet?” he asked. 

I nodded, thinking about the newborn fields we had passed on our way in. If Ugnam at the seed store was to be trusted, and I thought he was, then I’d have a few days until they showed any sign of growth. 

“That’s good,” he said. “We’ll stop by the blacksmith on our way in to set things up for your house to get fixed. Then we’ll be almost done with our tutorial. Come on.” 

 

The blacksmith was a mountain of a man, quiet and kind, by the name of Geoff. His son, Jeff, almost him in miniature, was quiet and dismissive.  ~~ They both ~~ Geoff said they’d be happy to fix up the house once for free since it was hardly livable as it was. 

“Thank you,” I had replied, amazed at their kindness. I turned to Jeff particularly because he seemed a bit bitter about the whole thing. “Thank you so much.” 

“You know,” Micah said in what might have been an undertone for him, “you could probably marry him someday.” 

Since returning from the shrine, Micah’s “good humor” seemed to be returning to him. Both Jeff and I stared at him. “That’s a weird thing to say,” Jeff said, turning back to his work. “You shouldn’t talk about that kind of stuff with strangers.” 

We left soon after that. Micah didn’t seem to realize he had said anything all that strange. In fact, he went on to list the possible guys I could probably marry in town. I wondered if he had noticed the wistfulness in my voice earlier when we were talking about families. 

“Well, Hammond, obviously,” he started ticking off names off his fingers. “His friend Will, Jeff, probably that doctor-in-training Razim, Tom at the orphanage, and I think you’ve meet Ugnam already, he’s an interesting character.” He smiled at me. “You’ve got your pick!” 

He made a face and kept talking despite the fact that I was no longer paying attention. “Now, if you’d been a guy, you could probably marry Charity or Juliette, oh! And there’s Nelly, but you haven’t met her yet either. Then there’s Zaprina, Marnie, and Tara. Better watch out for them-,” he said only half-joking, “they seem like they’ll be stiff competition.” 

I didn’t really get what he meant, but I decided that I didn’t care enough to ask. It seemed like the kind of random thing Micah kept saying. Despite all the strangeness that Micah typically spouted, I found myself wondering. 

“Micah,” I said, interrupting him mid-lecture about Jeff’s likes and dislikes. “Are  _ you _ married?”

He laughed. “You can’t marry the tutorial guide,” he said. 

“No, I didn’t mean that,” I said, smiling as well. “I meant- do you have a family? You said your family was in Sharance. Did you mean a specific family or that the town had become your family?”

He paused, looking up at the sky as we continued on the path toward my home. “Both, when I think about it,” he replied slowly. He smiled at me. “To answer your first question: yes, I’m married. My wife is waiting for me back home.” His smile turned soft and his eyes lost their focus. “She wanted to come with me, but… our kid is still a little too small to travel too far.” 

He told me more about his family. How he met his wife. It was a little strange, in true Micah fashion, but his smile was genuine. I promised myself that I’d work as hard as I could to make sure he could get home to them as quickly as possible. 

“Ah, now I’ve gone and talked your ear off,” he said as we reached my home. “Sorry about that.” 

“No, it’s nice to hear,” I said. I tapped my head. “I can’t remember my family, so hearing about the families of other people is kinda nice.” 

He grinned. “Don’t worry. Whether it’s the people or someone special, you’ll find a family here too.” 

I waved him off and returned to my home. Twilight still hadn’t fallen. I leaned against the bottom half of my door and watched the townsfolk as they walked past the little path that led to my home. 

Glancing at the clock on my wall, I considered my options for a moment. There were so many people in town I still hadn’t met. Hearing Micah talk about Sharance made me ache for that kind of love, that kind of connection, found in a town of people who all knew and cared about each other. 

I threw the door open. It was time to make some new memories. 

My first order of business was to meet those that Micah had mentioned. People my age, people I could become friends with, regardless of Micah’s comment about competition. 

I met Greta on my way in. She was not my age, maybe about sixty years older or so. She spoke in a halting, accented manner. I could hardly hear her over the sound of her chickens. She said she was on her way to meet with Sally at the inn. I followed along, listening as she told me about how her uncle’s cow trampled all over her best frock when she was only seven years old. 

I was finally able to thank Sally for the meal. “Don’t mention it,” she said stiffly. “We look after people in this town.” 

“She says that,” Hammond spoke up, ducking around a door frame. “But you didn’t see how stern she was when--.”

“Save your breath, child!” she snapped. A look of resignation crossed her features as she saw Hammond’s grin dart back into the kitchen. She smiled up at me “Truly, child, I’m glad you enjoyed the food. You have enough to get on now, right?” 

I nodded. “Yes, I’m all set. Thank you.” It wasn’t much, but it was enough. 

“Oh, hey, wait!” Hammond’s voice came from the kitchen again. “You’re staying for dinner, right, Elle?” He came jogging toward me with a dishrag in his hand. “Will and Juliette really want to meet you.”

“I’d love to meet them,” I agreed. “I was going to run some errands and meet the rest of the townsfolk, but I’ll be back in a couple hours.”

“Perfect.” He smiled broadly. “It’ll be my treat-- or probably Charlie’s. He’s glad to have someone new to try his cooking.”

I grinned. Hammond’s smile was infectious. “I look forward to it.” 

I left the inn after a few more words with Sally and Greta. They pointed me in the direction of the doctor’s office. I nearly skipped on my way there, rejoicing in the sunlight on my skin. 

I entered the building with a sign above it saying CLINIC in peeling lettering. The room was clean but clearly old. Wood shelves filled with thick, heavy books lined the back wall behind a front desk where I assumed someone usually sat waiting for patients. A blue curtain separated the front from the back half of the clinic. Smooth stones beneath my feet were neatly tessellated on the floor. Large shelves of different vials and dried herbs lined the walls. 

“Just a moment!” a female voice said sharply from behind the curtain.

I heard several muttered sounds and a loud yelp of pain. I winced. Whatever was being done back there sounded intense. Maybe I would just come back later. 

“Done!” a male voice said. I felt my heart jump a bit at the sound. His voice was the smoothest thing I had ever heard, deep and velvety.“You’re free to go, Arek, and try to stay away from suspicious bushes this time around.” 

The blue curtain parted. The man holding it was tall and lean with chestnut skin and short-buzzed hair. He held himself confidently, smiling at the other man now exiting the clinic. 

“Thank you, Dr. Razim,” the older man said. He had one arm in a blue cloth sling. His good hand rubbed the back of head abashedly. “I’ll do my best.” 

The doctor laughed and clapped a hand on Arek’s back. “Thank’s all I can ask for.” 

Arek chuckled and turned back. “And thanks to you, as well, Nurse. I appreciate all that you do.” He winked and pointed finger guns at her.

I noticed the red-haired woman behind him for the first time. Her face was stoic, almost irritated. “Ah, actually, I’m--.”

“Well, I’ve got to get back to my boat,” Arek said. “Thanks, again, the both of you.” He strode past, hardly noticing me with but a neighborly nod. He left and the bell above the door made a tiny tinkling noise. 

“Really, Razim, you could at least pretend that I’m your equal,” the woman said sharply. 

Razim smiled, shaking his head. “You know you are, Tara. Just ignore them.”

“Don’t be so patronizing!” she said sharply. She balled her hands into fists and put them on her hips. “Really, we have the same amount of training-- you’d think that people would-- who are  _ you _ ?” 

They had finally spotted me. I waved a little awkwardly. “Ah, hi!” I tried to keep my cool. “I’m Elle, the new farmer.” 

“The earthmate!” Razim pushed the curtain open so he wouldn’t have to hold it. In two quick steps, he was right in front of me and I felt the heat rise to my face. He extended a hand to me. “It’s great to meet you. I’m Razim, the doctor here.”

“And I’m Tara,” the woman half-yelled across the room. “The  _ other doctor _ here.” 

“Ah, ha, yeah,” Razim said, shaking my hand. He smiled a little self-consciously.

“It’s good to meet you both,” I said, glancing between the two. Were they… were they a thing? Married, I mean?

“Did you need some medicine?” Razim asked as he dropped my hand. He reached for my face, warm hands turning my head this way and that to examine me. I swallowed. “Or a checkup? I thought we heard from Rooty that you had complete amnesia?” I felt my heart rate spike as his golden eyes appraised me. 

Tara finally walked up to join us, not wanting to be excluded from the conversation. “I don’t think we have medicine to cure that, Razim,” she said dryly. She looked at me sharply. “But you could probably do with a check-up, why don’t you come with me?  _ Since I’m a doctor. _ ” 

I smiled. “Ah, sure,” I said. “Thank you.”

She pulled me back to the back of the clinic and pulled the curtain shut. I glanced at it oddly. She noticed and smiled wryly. “No, it’s not necessary,” she admitted. “It’s mostly just so  _ Razim gets the hint that he's not needed _ .” She threw the last bit in the direction of the curtain. 

“I get it, I get it.” His voice sighed from the other side of the curtain “I’m going to Charlie’s. I’ll be back in an hour or so.” 

Tara didn’t respond until she heard the bell above the door. Then she sighed, her shoulders slumping. 

“You two… don’t get along too well?” I guessed. I half-hoped. 

Tara set about gathering some tools that I felt like I should have been warier of. “Oh, no, we get along fine. We’ve been studying together since we were kids. It’s-- complicated.” 

“Complicated?” I repeated. I felt my stomach drop. “Oh-- like… lovers?”

Tara chuckled as she moved the tools to the table beside the chair where I sat. “No, definitely not, though we’ve discussed it. We have a mutual understanding of our disinterest in each other as anything more than friends, that’s part of what makes it complicated.-” she held up a stick. “Alright, say ‘ah’.” 

“AHHH.” 

I nearly gagged as she stuck the stick in my mouth to inspect my throat. 

“Everything seems to be healthy- it seems that you’ve taken excellent care of yourself up to now, be sure to keep that up.” She removed the stick and grabbed my wrist, watching the small clock attached to her own, presumably to count something. 

“So what’s the complicated part?” I asked. “It seems like you two are pretty close.” 

She hummed, dropping my wrist and picking up a piece of paper to scribble something down. “We’re like siblings. And that’s the complicated bit. Not all too complicated when you think about it, and yet,” she sighed and glanced at me with a kind of weariness: “You’d be amazed how few people seem to grasp the concept that a man and woman can be as close as Razim and me and still simply be friends.” 

I didn’t really have a frame of reference for how rare an occurrence that might actually be, but from her expression, I guessed that it must be a near constant battle. “What if you found someone you actually wanted to be with?” I asked. “Wouldn’t that make it easier?” 

Tara laughed coldly, grinding herbs in her pestle and mortar. “That would be nice,” she said. “Ideal, even. Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. The perfect man isn’t going to just waltz through that door asking for a checkup.” 

Ironically, the bell rang. Tara and I shared a surprised look before having to stifle our laughter. “Just a moment,” she managed in a semi-professional tone. 

“Oh, hey Tara!” said a man’s voice. “I’m just here for the medicine Rooty ordered. Whenever you get a chance, though. No rush.” 

“Hey, Tom,” Tara said, measuring out the herbs into a vial of water. “It’s all finished. I just need to grab it.” 

She shook the vial gently before examining it through the light. Then she handed it to me. “Here, for you. It’s a recovery potion for if you find yourself weary from fights or farming.” She winked at me. “On the house this time, but don’t get used to it.” 

I grinned, jumping off of the chair. “Thanks, Tara.” 

I pulled back the curtain for both of us. Tom was leaning against the counter, looking up at the herbs drying from the ceiling. He grinned at me. “Hey! You’re not covered in mud this time!” 

I smiled. “Hello, Tom. And no, I’m not.” 

“Here’s the medicine,” Tara said, picking up a white packet off one of the shelves. “Rooty already paid for it so just get it to Yucie before she gets any worse.” 

Tom smiled at her, taking the package gratefully. It might have been my imagination, but I could have sworn his ears were turning pink before my eyes. “Thanks so much, Tara. You’re a lifesaver.” 

Tara shrugged. “It’s what doctors do.” 

I left before I could see the thrilling end of their discussion.  Clouds moved across the sun, casting shadows on the ground. I followed them toward the end of town. I hadn’t been to the dock yet. I had only made it as far as the grocers before--.

“Oi!” 

I paused, mid-step, and turned toward the voice. A man with long red hair only partly pulled away from his face, leaned out the half-shut door of the grocer’s. I waved. “Hey, Ugnam, how are you?” 

“About as fine as a kettle of fish,” he said cryptically, waving away the pleasantries with a casual air. “How did those seeds work for you?” 

I walked closer to the storefront. My eyebrows pushed together in confusion. “I just planted them. I won’t know for a while,” I said. 

Ugnam was a pleasant man. His face seemed to hold a certain kind of expression that was hard to describe. It was equal parts confidence and distance as if he was comfortable keeping people at arm’s length but no closer. I found his presence entrancing and more than once had to remind myself to focus on what he was saying rather than how he was saying it.

“Ah, well, I’m sure they’ll be perfect. They’re from my shop, after all,” he winked lazily. “Now, has anyone told you about the festival next week?” He raised an eyebrow. 

I blinked. “Festival?” I repeated. Maybe it was on my calendar or something. “No, I can’t say that anyone has.” 

“It’s a flower festival,” he said. “There’s a competition, music, food, games, dancing. You should come.” He smiled, tilting his head against the palm of his hand. 

I didn’t know what to expect from a festival, but it sounded like a good chance to spend more time with the townsfolk. “That sounds like fun,” I said. “Thanks for letting me know-- which day will it be?” 

“Spring 12,” Ugnam replied. “Make sure to save a dance for me, got it?” 

“Definitely,” I laughed, moving off toward the docks again. “Thanks, again, Ugnam.” 

“Any time,” he replied, watching me go. 

I moved on towards the edge of town. There was a single path, wide enough for a cart or two to pass, that lead down to the stone landing. When I was finally able to see over the last rise, I found myself breathless. 

The sun made the water’s waves burn into my eyes. The spotting clouds cast shadows like large fish swimming over the currents. A wooden dock extended out over the tide. My eyes followed it hungrily, wondering if I could run down it and dive into the water. 

How could a place be so beautiful? My legs moved on their own toward the dock, getting faster the closer I got. I had no idea if I could even swim, but I wanted to fall into that water. I didn’t care if I came back up or not. 

I was running down the dock before I realized that I was losing my footing. I hadn’t really registered the boat that was moored on the right side of the dock, but as I starting falling towards it I realized that should I hit my head it might prove bad for my health. 

Luckily, and to my immense surprise, a pair of strong arms caught me. “That was not the wisest choice,” said a woman’s soft voice. 

I looked up at my rescuer who had been standing on the boat and watching my stupidity as it unfolded. She was tall, easily a head taller than me, and seemed too thin to be as strong as she was. She straightened me and made sure I had my balance before letting go of my shoulders. Her hair was a startling shade of white-blond, but she looked like she was no older than me. Her eyes were a tight almond shape, appraising me with amusement. 

“You are the new earthmate, yes?” she asked in her surprisingly silken voice. “I am Zaprina.” 

“Elle,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “Thanks for the save.” I laughed nervously. “You’re right, that wasn’t the wisest thing to do.” 

“No,” she agreed gently. “But the ocean calls to many. Do not blame yourself for answering her call.”

I didn't know how to respond to that. So I didn't. I looked out across the sea to the horizon. I felt so… small. 

Zaprina patted my shoulder. “You will grow accustomed to it.”

“Hey, Prina, have you seen that sky fish lure? I haven't been able to-- hey, you're that girl from the clinic!” 

I turned toward the voice. It was the man with the sling, Arek. He gave me a salute. “Welcome aboard-- are you one of Zaprina’s friends?”

“She is the new earthmate, Uncle,” Zaprina said.

Arek’s jaw dropped comically. “An earthmate? What?” 

Zaprina nodded, looking at her father with an inscrutable expression. “Is is not obvious by the dirt under her nails or the leaves caught in her hair?” 

I checked my nails. I hadn’t noticed that previously, but there were solid lines of dark dirt beneath the nail and caught in the crevasses around the cuticle. I reached for my head, searching for the leaves that Zaprina had mentioned. I found three of them and blushed, thinking what a mess I must have looked like while meeting everyone. 

“Oh, now that you mention it.” Arek leaned closer, examining me with salty blue eyes the same color as the ocean. “Yeah, you do have the looks of an earthmate.” He grinned broadly. “Sorry for not seeing it sooner!” 

“Ah, it’s fine,” I replied. “It’s good to meet you both. I’m Elle.” 

They both nodded in acknowledgment. “You have amnesia, no?” Zaprina asked, crossing her arms. “That makes your life a challenge, I am certain. Feel free to ask us for help if you ever need anything.”

“Eh? Anemia? That’s no laughing matter! Make sure to eat plenty of spinach,” Arek said. He was clearly losing interest in the conversation. He started shuffling around for his lure he had been looking for before my arrival. 

“No, uncle,” Zaprina said patiently. “Amnesia. She does not remember her past before coming to this town.” 

“Past this town?” Arek repeated, obviously only half-listening. “Eh, it’s only a big forest for miles around. About two days’ journey out you’ll hit the village of Ovce. Another few days past that and-.”

“He is a little hard of hearing,” Zaprina said in an undertone to me.

“I heard that!” Arek interrupted himself, much to my surprise. “I am not hard of hearing!”

“Uncle, Elle has amnesia and cannot recall her life before yesterday,” Zaprina explained, now that he was listening. “She did not come here to ask about the villages beyond Laine.” 

“What’s that? She’s forgotten? Sounds like some sort of witch’s curse, if you ask me,” Arek turned back to his search. “She’ll remember everything soon enough, I’m sure.” 

I smiled. “Thank you for your optimism, Arek,” I said. 

Zaprina turned to one of the boxes beside her. After sifting through several items, she pulled out a long fishing rod. “Here, for you,” she offered it to me. “It’s a bit old, but it should serve you well.” 

I accepted it gratefully. “Thank you so much, Zaprina!” I couldn’t diminish the smile from my face. “This is wonderful, thank you!” 

I was so excited to start using it. She explained, in a much more reasonable way than Micah had done before, how to use the tool and where the best fishing spots were. She even told me which spots were best for which kind of fish. 

I hugged her tightly before leaving. She seemed surprised by the contact, but I was just so grateful for the fishing rod and being able to be near the ocean. She patted my back awkwardly. “It is… really nothing so great. I am glad you like it.” 

“It’s the  _ best _ !” I danced around. I got the feeling I may have been behaving a little childishly, but I was happy. “I’ve got to go find--.” I froze.

Who?

Who did I have to go find? 

Who did I need to tell about this? 

There was a name on the tip of my tongue. The first name I always thought of when something exciting happened. I could see a smile-- broad and toothy. I could see sparkling green-blue eyes. A face-- a face I knew. I knew--- I knew! 

Holding on to the image was like trying to keep water in my bare hands. It was fleeting, fading. I felt my throat tighten and my arms begin to lose strength. The picture was slipping away from me.

No, I begged the image. No, don’t-- please, don’t--- 

It was gone. 

Gone. I couldn’t recall the smile or the eyes. The name was beyond my reach. 

I felt a tear roll down my cheek. 

“Elle?” Zaprina spoke gently, placing a hand on top of my head as if I were a child. 

I looked up at her with wide eyes. “I… I don’t… I don’t remember who I have to tell,” I said through the tightness. Whoever it was, they were so important to me. They were the first ones I wanted to tell- who  _ were _ they? How would I ever find them if I couldn’t remember them? 

With a thumb, Zaprina rubbed the tear away. She examined me for a moment, lifting my face to look at her and focus. I found the tears stopping, but the tightness remained. “Then go,” she said kindly. “And find someone new to tell.” She released me and I stared at the deck floor below us. “Whoever was there from your time before us is no longer here. They may be searching for you, but without your memories, you will only be searching for shadows. Make memories here. Make friends here. Go tell someone you trust about the fishing rod.” She paused and I looked up at her once more. She wore a small smile on thin lips. “Be here, where your feet have brought you.”

I nodded. It was a slow, painful nod. It was me admitting that I couldn’t hold on to the memory. It was me admitting, again, that I was a bit broken inside. 

“‘Ey, Zaprina! I found the lure!” The moment was broken by Arek reappearing from below deck, holding a shimmering lure in his hands. “It was under my pillow, wouldn’t you know it?” 

“I’ll get going,” I said, sounding stronger than I felt. “And I’ll take your advice, thank you Zaprina.” 

Zaprina only nodded, turning to her uncle as I exited the boat. I left, feeling significantly more deflated than I had expected to feel. I needed to lift myself up before I met Will and Juliette. Hammond--

Hammond! I could tell Hammond about the fishing rod! 

That lifted my spirits. I picked up my pace slightly. I was still clutching the rod in my hands. It hadn’t quite been the couple of hours I had assumed it would take to meet everyone-- but I didn’t mind getting the opportunity to spend some time in the warm interior of the inn’s restaurant. 

“Margie! Watch out!” 

I didn’t see the little girl or her wagon until it was too late. There was nothing I could do to stop the collision. I had just enough time to shove my fishing rod into my inventory and wonder if crashing into things and falling down would just be a way of life for me. I hit the ground and wondered if I could just sit there for a minute. 

“Oh my goodness, are you okay?” A woman’s voice asked. “I’m so sorry-- we should have checked to make sure the path was clear.”

I sat up and rubbed my elbows. “Don’t worry about it,” I said, humming as I got to my feet. “I’m starting to get used to it.” 

The woman was probably one of the ones Micah had mentioned. She was young, with soft, tanned skin and delicately curled chocolate hair that fell around her shoulders. Her face was round and the features arranged into an expression of concern. She turned toward the little girl in her small wagon. 

“Margie-- you’re okay, right?” The girl was a miniature of the woman, all brown curls, and rosy cheeks. The only difference being that Margie looked as if she were about to explode into tears at any second. 

In fact, she did. She burst into tears as the other woman reached for her, blubbering some sort of apology as the older woman picked her up and held her closely. The woman hushed her, a slight smile pulling at her face. “Shhhhh, there now, it’s alright, she’s not hurt. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s alright.” 

Margie buried her face into the woman’s shoulder. The woman glanced at me apologetically. “I’m sorry, I should probably go let her take a nap. I’m Marnie, this is my younger sister. I work at the grocers. It’s good to meet you!” 

She was off before I had a chance to introduce myself. I watched them run up the hill toward town and disappear out of sight. Maybe Micah had had a point about stiff competition. Who was a dirty earthmate to that unearthly fairy? I shook the thought out of my head. That was ridiculous. Marnie was allowed to be beautiful and so was I-- albeit with leaves in my hair.

I continued up the hill after them. It would be nice to get to the inn and sit down, have a decent meal perhaps. I found that I was wearing out sooner than I had expected. The sun hadn’t fallen below the horizon yet and I was already wondering if it was time for bed yet. I took the vial with the recovery potion out of my inventory and eyed it suspiciously. Tara had said it would help me recover strength. That didn’t mean it wouldn’t have other side-effects. 

I unplugged the top and downed it, trying not to think about the taste. Unfortunately, the taste hit me all at once and I gagged, spluttering even after I had swallowed. It sent an unpleasant shiver down my spine, but after a moment I felt the renewed strength she had mentioned. 

I stowed the now-empty bottle in my inventory and set up once more, trying to process everything that had happened. Fixing up my farm seemed like an eon ago. Then Micah and the shrine-- the Runeys. I stared at the dirt beneath my feet. The Runeys I needed to replenish somehow. 

And then all the townsfolk-- it was like a blur of faces. I wasn’t sure I could keep all their names straight. There was Tom and Charity at the school, and then Rooty and Salina and all the children. Then there was Ugnam at the grocers and Greta who lived somewhere in the woods. So many people. I made a note to ask Micah how he got to know all the people of Sharance. It seemed like a tremendous task

I came into town. A few people were walking down Laine Lane. I could put names to most of them. Razim and Tara were exiting Ugnam’s. Greta was herding her chickens toward the forest. Geoff and Jeff were returning from my farm. Geoff gave me a big grin and an even bigger thumbs up. I found I was okay with waiting to see the final result until after I had met the remaining townspeople. 

As I neared the restaurant, I saw Hammond playing a stringed instrument. His eyes were half-closed as he strummed. A small, quiet smile twitched in time with the joyful melody he played. He opened his eyes as I took my first step onto the porch. 

“Elle!” A wide grin broke across his face and his eyes grew wide. He tucked the instrument under his arm to drag me by the hand into the inner warmth of the room. “Will! Charlie! Juliette! Elle is here, come meet her!” 

Inside, I was met with a warmth that surprised me. The room was full of the scent of spices and savory meat. A few villagers- I recognized Rooty, Tara, and Razim- were sitting at various tables scattered around the room. Toward one end there were three separate doorways. One was covered with only a short curtain, the other had doors that were thrown open but it was too dark beyond for me to see much but the floors on just the other side. 

My eyes were suddenly drawn to a man standing near this corner of the room. He stood with his back to us, his hands raised to about his shoulder. It took a minute for my eyes to register what I was seeing, but then I became aware of tiny fireballs flying from one of the man’s hand to another. I was dazzled, watching the fire twirl in circles around the man’s head. Then, in time to some rhythm, I was unaware of, I stared in awe as the man swung around, not missing a beat as the fireballs continued to bounce from hand to hand. There were easily twelve of them, but it was hard to count with how fast his hands moved. They sailed over his head, around his back. His eyes were unmoving on a single spot in space, watching all of them all at once. 

His face was intense, eyebrows lowered and mouth tight. His features were pointed and sharp, the light cast strange shadows across them as he continued to toss the fireballs higher and higher. 

Hammond chuckled beside me, his arms folding. “Show-off,” he muttered, smiling at his friend. 

Suddenly the man’s eyes shifted to me. I’m not sure if I’ve ever had the experience of being completely entranced by someone’s gaze before, but I found that I couldn’t follow the fireballs he was juggling anymore. A small smile pulled at one corner of his mouth. The expression made my face burn. With three swift tosses in quick succession, he tossed all the fireballs in the air, where they exploded into colorful bursts of sparks above his head. He placed a hand over his heart and bowed, finally taking his eyes off of me. 

I joined the others in the room by clapping. The man straightened, pulling a pair of glasses out of his pocket. He approached me and Hammond, putting the glasses onto his face and suddenly I could see the full color of his eyes. I had thought it was only the fire glinting in them, but no, they truly were a bright orange color shining beneath curiously quirked eyebrows.

“Naturally,” he said, glancing at Hammond. His voice was soft but assured. “It’s not every day I get the chance to impress a cute girl for the first time.” 

I felt my face burn as he turned back to me. He extended a hand, “I’m Will, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

“I’m Elle,” I replied, taking his hand. His grip was warm. I could feel calluses on his hands, rough patches where he had likely been burned practicing his own tricks.  

He smiled as he released my hand. “I know.” He shot a glance at Hammond. “Ham’s told me a lot about you.”

“ _ Erk--” _ Hammond choked on a word, his face turning red. “ _ Will!  _ I didn’t-- I mean, I told them, but like I didn’t--.” He covered his face with his hands. “Ah, just bury me alive why don’t you?” 

Will spared his friend more suffering by turning toward the kitchen. “Charlie! Elle’s here!

“Just a second,” a man’s voice came from the kitchen. “I’m almost done with Rooty’s order.”

“Yeah, let the man work!” Rooty drawled from his chair near the fireplace. He glanced up in amusement from a small leather-bound volume. He quirked one bushy eyebrow. “Elle,” he nodded at me.

“Ah- hi, Rooty,” I smiled back. “How’re the kids?” 

“Probably fine,” he replied turning back to his book. He settled into his seat, turning a page and effectively showing me that the conversation was finished. 

“Hey, Hammond?” I asked him in an undertone. “When Rooty’s away from the orphanage, who tends to the kids?” 

“Hmm?” Hammond asked, glancing at the man at the table by the fire. “Oh, likely Tom or Charity or someone. The folks in town like to take turns having dinner with the kids. Rooty doesn’t have to leave them, technically speaking, but I think he enjoys having a little time to himself.” 

I nodded, understanding. I liked learning more about the town. Zaprina’s words came back to me.  _ Be here, where your feet have brought you.  _

I smiled, knowing that Rooty wouldn’t be paying attention. I didn’t notice Hammond smiling at me while I did so. Just as I might have looked at my companion and noticed the smile on his face, a man came out of the kitchen. 

The only way to describe the man was that he looked suspiciously like two children in a long chef’s robe. His head seemed too small for his body and the scruff on his chin resembled dirt more than actual stubble. He was a bit wide where his belly was supposed to be. 

Hammond put a hand on my back and nudged me gently toward him as he put the platter on Rooty’s table. “Charlie,” he called the man’s attention. “This is Elle.” 

The man wiped a hand on his apron. “A pleasure, Miss Elle.” His voice was so much deeper than I had been expecting. “Hammond’s been singing your praises all day--.”

“ERk--  _ Charlie, _ ” Hammond shuffled nervously. “I wasn’t--.”

There was suddenly a rumbling from the roof and what I presumed to be the second floor of the building. The walls themselves seemed to be trembling under some immense force. I looked around, but no one else seemed to be worried. I glanced at the men beside me. Beyond unconcerned, they looked… bored.

“Juliette.” all three men said beside me in a uniform tone of exasperation. 

A woman came flying out of a second doorway, straight for me like a ghost from its haunt. She was a mess of red curls and a yellow gown. She tackled me into a hug. We both would have fallen over if it hadn’t been for Will and Hammond catching us. “I am so glad to have another woman in town!” She half- yelled, her voice full of animation. “Oh, Elle! You’ll be invited to all of our sleepovers and get-togethers and--.”

“Don’t smother her, Jules,” Hammond sighed. 

Juliette held me at arm’s length. I was finally able to see her properly. She had a round, cheerful face. Her hair fell just above her warm brown eyes. She examined me and smiled. “I like you, Elle. We’re going to be great friends.” 

“You haven’t introduced yourself yet, Juliette,” Will said patiently. “You might want to start there before adopting her entirely.” 

She huffed, puffing her cheeks out and glaring at the boys. “Why in the world do I need to introduce myself, it’s not like you both haven’t already told her my name!” 

“It’s a  _ courtesy _ ,” Hammond said. He glanced at me apologetically. 

“Whatever,” she tossed her hair over her shoulder, painting a polite smile on her face. “Hi, I’m Juliette.” Her face fell and she glared at Hammond. “Happy?” 

“Not remotely,” Hammond said. “But I suspect that’s the best you’ve got.”

“Alright, Alright,” Charlie interrupted them, smiling at his crew. “Enough goofing off. Let’s get to work, all of you.” He nudged me with an elbow. “Tonight’s on the house, Elle. We’ll whip you up something special. Just take a seat on next to Mr. Scrooge over there and we’ll bring it right out to ya.” 

“I heard that,” Rooty said, not looking up from his book. 

“You were supposed to,” Charlie shot back.”Play nice, she’s new.” 

Rooty waved a dismissive hand at the chef. 

“Thank you,” I said to Charlie as he ushered a still-bickering threesome back into the kitchen. He only nodded in response as I took my seat on the opposite side of the table from Rooty.  

“How’re you doing, kid?” he asked, still not looking at me. “All settled in?”

I blinked. I didn’t think he’d care. “Ah, yes. I’m good. Thank you. And you, how are you doing?” 

“About as good as a kettle of fish,” he said, reaching for his cup without looking. 

“And the kids? I ran into Tom at the clinic today, he said that one of the kids wasn’t feeling well?” I asked, leaning forward. Maybe I could have an actual conversation with him. 

“Yucie’s fine,” he said, sipping his tea. “She’s been resting the better part of today with me back at the orphanage. The medicine is to bring her fever down and help her sleep.” 

“How old is she?” I asked. I could see that his eyes weren’t following the lines of words on the page. Maybe I shouldn’t have been bringing up the kids while he was taking his break. 

“She’s probably about three or so, maybe younger,” Rooty shrugged, but his grip tightened on the handle of his cup. “She was left on my doorstep about two years ago. No note.” 

I fell silent, realizing for the first time exactly what it meant to run an orphanage. “Does that… happen often?” I asked. 

“More often than I’d like,” Rooty admitted wearily. His expression changed, like a mask going up over his feelings. “There’s only so many mouths I can feed and so many diapers I can change.” 

“Hah,” said a new voice. This time, I looked up and saw Sally make her way toward us. She sat down on the Rooty’s side, ignoring him. “He says that Miss Elle, but in truth, he hardly does anything at all. Tom and Charity do most of the work.” 

Rooty harrumphed, finally putting his book aside to pay attention to his meal. “As if you can say much better. Who’s with your boys now? Or have you finally released them into the wild?” 

“Well, if that’s how you’re going to be,” she placed a package on the table. “I guess I’ll just take this back home.” 

Rooty stared at the package, then back at Sally. His eyes shot to me once. He turned away from the table so I wouldn’t be able to read his lips. Somehow, probably one of those “plot devices” Micah had mentioned, I was able to still hear his lowered voice.

“You said you wouldn’t mention it this year,” he said.

Sally smiled, covering her mouth with her hand to hide it. “And you chewed me out for forgetting to send the boys with umbrellas. Life’s like that sometimes.” 

He shifted to look at her, his expression inscrutable. I wondered if he might kiss her on the cheek. What, exactly, was the relationship between them? Sometimes they seemed like an old married couple and sometimes it seemed like they were nothing more than slightly competitive neighbors. He slid the package to his side and put it on his lap. “Thank you. The children will love it.”

“I know,” she sniffed. “They always do.” She looked at him, leaning toward him and resting her head on her hand. “Happy Birthday, you old coot.” 

Rooty tried not to smile as he took a sip of his tea again. “I’m still younger than you,” he muttered. 

Smiling, Sally extended a single finger to tip the tea ever so slightly that it dribbled over Rooty’s face. “And that’s the tea, isn’t it?” 

She stood as Rooty spluttered, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket to dab at his face. “Have a pleasant meal, the both of you.” She winked at me before waving and taking her leave of the place. 

“Erm,” I said, wondering if I should wish him a happy birthday as well. It occurred to me that I wasn’t supposed to have overheard the conversation and it may be an awkward explanation.

“And here we are,” Will appeared out of nowhere with a platter. He set it down in front of me with a quiet smile and a wink. “Enjoy your meal.” 

He slipped back to the kitchen where I caught Hammond making a face at him. I smiled after them both. 

I didn't look up at Rooty, turning instead to the plate in front of me. I hesitated only a moment, feeling like I needed to say some sort of thanks although I wasn't sure whom to before digging in ravenously. 

“You’ve got one heck of an appetite,” Rooty commented. I looked up at him then, my face hovering over the plate of food. I froze, realizing that I must be behaving inappropriately. I sat up straight, mimicking Rooty’s own posture. 

“I was hungry,” I said, a little defensively. 

He took another sip of tea to hide a smile. “Ahh, you’re going to fit in just fine here, Elle,” he said over the rim of his cup. 

I didn’t get a chance to ask him what he meant when he finished, tucking the box Sal had given him under his arm. Will was there in an instant, picking up Rooty’s plate and cup. “Anything else for you, Rutagaba?” 

“No,” he said, stretching his back. He glanced to the box under his arm. “That old woman’s got the kids covered, but thanks for the offer.” He nodded his thanks and walked out without a backward glance. 

Will shook his head, watching the old man as he left. He turned on his heel, inclining his head toward me. “Excuse me, I’ll be back shortly.” His smile was polite, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

He strode away, leaving me at the table alone. There were others in the room, strangers it seemed like. There was something about their faces that struck me as lifeless, empty. They were probably those Enpeasees like Micah had told her about. Essentially automatons with quirky one-liners. 

Dinner was wonderful. Eventually, Will came out to ask me if there was anything else I needed. He sat with me and spoke with me for a short while. He clapped with me after Hammond finished a piece. Hammond playing the piano was a sight I wasn’t likely to forget. His face was serene and his voice was like an angel. 

I walked back to my farm alone. Night had fallen and the air was bordering cold. Oddly, I didn’t feel the chill like I thought I would. I strode home confidently, feeling like things would be alright. 

I reached the turn in the road that led toward my farm. My feet froze before my brain had figured out why. A white figure, small, like a child, was some distance down the path, just barely in front of the newly tilled fields. For a split second, I thought it might be a child, one of the kids from the orphanage, but a sinking feeling settled in my stomach when I realized it was too wide, and the head too large to be a child. 

The thing moved into the field, just one row. The way it moved-- it hobbled like it might topple over at any moment. It paused, it’s great, round head bowed to the ground. Was it going to eat my seeds? I heard a snuffling sound beneath the gentle breeze through the trees. 

I moved forward, reaching in my belt for the ax I had used to chop wood earlier. I didn’t want to attack it, but if it jumped at me I wanted to be able to protect myself. 

A twig cracked beneath my boot. The thing’s head snapped up. Was it looking at me? Was it going to call for reinforcements? Were there more of them? It still hadn’t advanced toward me. It seemed to be waiting for me to make the first move. I lowered the ax, inching toward it. It flinched away, startled. With an odd sort of gargling cry, it darted towards me. I yelped, stumbling back and fumbling my grip on my ax. The ax fell back into my inventory and I fell back on my backside. The monster was advancing, feet thundering against the ground. 

“Elle!” 

There was a flash of steel like a shooting star. The monster dissolved into a flurry of blue sparks. I blinked up at my rescuer. He wasn’t terribly clear, but I didn’t need much more than a silhouette to recognize Ugnam. He looked down at me, offering a hand to help me up. 

“You were nearly attacked by a wooly,” he said as I regained my balance. His tone, as enigmatic as ever, didn’t help me to understand what a “wooly” was.

“I-- yes,” I said, glancing back at where the thing had been. When it was light I would have to check to make sure everything was still there. “Thank you for your help, Ugnam.” 

He examined me, an eyebrow raised. I thought he’d be laughing or teasing me for something, but he seemed only confused at my lack of any sort of reaction. 

“You’ve never seen a wooly before,” he said. In the shadows, I could make out even less of his face, but his tone had none of the playful brevity from earlier. 

“N..No,” I replied. “I haven’t seen a lot of things-- or at least I can’t remember if I have.” 

Ugnam hummed, his voice a low rumble. He seemed to be watching me for a long moment, debating something with himself. Finally, he spoke, “Elle, there are things you need to know about this town. But tonight isn’t the night for them. If you see another one of those things, I want you to use this.” He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. It had some word I didn’t recognize written on it. 

I blinked up at the silhouette of his face. “What is it?” 

“It’s a spell, you should be able to use it if you’re what everyone says you are. It’s called escape. If you press it quickly enough, it’ll teleport you back home.” He put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Try using it now, just so we both know that it works.” 

I blinked from him to the paper in my hands and back again. I didn’t doubt that it would work, but I still had questions. 

“What are you waiting for?” his tone gained a hint of severity. “Use the spell.” 

“But…” I stared at the paper. “Ugnam, everyone keeps calling me an earthmate and I don’t know why. I don’t actually know what an earthmate is!” 

He didn’t answer for a long moment. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. I once again wished I could see his face and get some sense of what he was thinking. “I suppose it was your companion who told us,” Ugnam finally said. “An earthmate is someone with a strong connection to the earth and the spirits of the land. It’s part of the reason why your crops will sprout faster than any of the ones my family’s farm will produce.” 

He paused, and I saw his head turn back towards town. “You’ll be good for this town, Elle. You have immense power, you just need to learn how to use it.” The shadowy shape of his head turned back to face me and I could see the outline of his hair illuminated in the moonlight. He placed a hand on my shoulder. “For now, I need to make sure you’re safe. Go home.” 

I felt my face burn again. I looked at the paper and nodded. “Th-Thank you.” 

I recited the spell and vanished in a flash of light, my face still burning and the tingling sensation still lingering on my shoulder where he had touched me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is flippin long, but like... i love these characters. i hope y'all enjoy your stay in Laine.


	3. Spring 3, Year 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle learns what an Earthmate is while getting more acquainted with Laine.

The next morning I woke up to sunlight streaming through light blue curtains. The warm, clean scent of fresh linen met my nose as I curled the blanket around me tighter. My nose was too cold, acting in obstinate disagreement with the warmth the rest of my body was experiencing. 

Then I blinked, my eyes wide open as I remembered that my house was a dilapidated shack without blue curtains or clean blankets. I sat up, flinging the blankets away from me. My mind flurried in a panic. I looked around-- there was no one else in the room. I was alone? But where was I? 

There was a small area with a sink that looked like it could be a kitchenette in one corner. There was a bedside table with my own journal on top of it. I remembered writing down my adventures from the day before right before collapsing onto the bed and letting sleep take me. There was a large empty space in the middle of the room, devoid of any sort of furnishing. A single rug stood on the inside of a door along a wall. There were two other doors, a washroom and a closet by the looks of them. 

Was this….?

I ran to the door, not bothering to pull my shoes on again. I threw it open and, sure enough, there was my tilled land and the little sprouts of my first crop. I closed the door again, looking around my new home with a growing sense of delight. 

I twirled around, looking at the new ceiling with its sturdy beams and visible lack of holes. I threw open the curtains of my old window and the new window on the opposite side of my home. Early light filled the room with a misty blue color. The wood floors seemed a pale lavender where the sunlight spilled across. It was still bare, and lacked personality, but it was clean, and new and  _ mine _ . I had a home!

I washed in my newly renovated washroom, pulled on some newly cleaned clothes, and whistled as I jangled around in my inventory for my farming tools. It was time to work! 

Work was much easier this time. I watered the half of my land that I had prepared the day before and then set to work on the other side, the side closest to the cliff. I still had enough seeds left over that I would be able to fill it completely, and I did so. It was slow and hard work, but I found that I enjoyed it immensely. 

After the fields were done, I stood on my porch proudly and examined them. They were magnificent little piles of dirt. Pride bolstered me. I glanced at the time. It was still morning, some of the shops wouldn’t even be open yet. I washed myself again and then made my way to the docks for some early morning fishing.

Zaprina was already working on her ship. I waved her a good morning as I passed. She smiled and turned back to her work, clearly intent on it. I sat on the edge of a stone mooring point and pulled my rod out of my inventory. It was going to be a peaceful day of fishing and working. Maybe I’d be able to get Charlie to teach me how to cook the fish so I could start preparing my own meals. 

“Oi!” a voice called from up the hill. “Oi, Zaprina!”

Even though it wasn’t for me, I still turned to see who it was. I was somewhat surprised to see it was Ugnam, coming down the hill with a large crate. 

“Good morning, Ugnam,” Zaprina said, her voice managing to carry across the docks even though her tone wasn’t much louder than it usually was. “Is that the order from Ivace?” 

“No, it’s an early birthday present,” he said. I caught the hint of humor and hoped I was right in guessing that he was joking.

Zaprina seemed to take it in stride. “Ah you shouldn’t have,” she replied dryly. She lept gracefully from the boat to the dock below. She took the crate from Ugnam, and I found myself impressed by her strength. The crate looked big and heavy- could she really carry it all on her own? 

Ugnam seemed equally impressed. “Are you sure you don’t need help getting that aboard?” he asked. 

Zaprina’s back was to me, but I saw her tilt her head slightly. “I can manage, but I thank you for being concerned. This is not so heavy that I cannot carry it myself.” 

“I can see that,” Ugnam said as she carried it away toward the ramp. 

I turned back to my fishing. Whatever their conversation might have been, I stopped listening. I felt a nibble on the end of my rod and began the wrestle to bring it to the surface.  

Over the course of the morning, I managed to catch four fish of varying sizes. I placed them in my inventory, hoping that the wouldn’t make everything else smell like fish for the rest of the day. 

After packing up my gear, I went to the kitchen and sure enough, Charlie had a beginners’ cooking tool that he sold to me at a discounted price after teaching me how to use it. I chatted with Will and Juliette, but Hammond wasn’t there. I was disappointed that I didn’t get to see him, but I was sure that I’d have the opportunity to catch him later in the day. 

Just as I was leaving, Jeff walked in with his arms balancing three boxes on top of each other. He didn’t see me, and thus ran straight into me. Perhaps my reflexes were getting better, but I managed to catch myself and one of the boxes that nearly slid off the top of the stack. 

“Oh,” Jeff said, peering around the boxes. “Sorry, Elle. Are you alright?” He seemed just as stoic as he had been yesterday. His face, while not impassive, didn’t seem terribly concerned about whether or not I had been crushed by the boxes. 

I smiled brightly, trying to win ‘pleasant neighbor points’. “Yup! Right as rain!” 

Jeff, a tall, broad man strong, broad features, furrowed his eyebrows. “How is rain right?” Jeff asked. I found myself lacking an answer and he shook his head before I could try to form one. “Just put the box on top. I’m taking these to the back.” 

“Oh, let me help! I’ll carry this one!” I hefted the box higher and turned to move away but Jeff had balanced the remaining two boxes in one hand and pulled the last one out of mine.

“That seems like a bad idea,” he said, not unkindly. “You have a tendency to fall when you walk.” He balanced the boxes again and moved past me, his back straight.

I didn’t move to follow and turned to leave before further embarrassment could overtake me. 

“Oh, Elle,” Jeff leaned back out of the kitchen doorway. “Ugnam was looking for you, he asked me to tell you that.”

“Oh,” I smiled, “Thanks! I’ll go see him right now.”

He nodded. “Good. Also,”- I had to turn back because I had assumed that would be all to the conversation- “you shouldn’t sleep with your windows open. We closed them when we fixed up your house last night.” 

“O-Oh,” I said, feeling my face redden further. He had… been in my home. “T-Thank you… Jeff.” That thought hadn’t occurred to me.

He nodded, unperturbed. “You’re welcome. I’m sure you like the renovations.” 

I smiled, feeling my embarrassment already subside. “I do. Thank you for all the work you and Geoff did.” Jeff really wasn’t as severe as I had first painted him to be. He was just very… direct. 

“Geoff didn’t work last night,” Jeff said, “it was just me.”

I blinked. “Oh-- ah, thank you then. I appreciate it.” He had really done all that work last night? By himself? He didn’t even look a bit fatigued about it. 

He only shrugged and ducked back into Charlie’s kitchen. I smiled a little lopsidedly after him. He would grow on me, I was sure. 

I made my way down Laine Lane. Some of the kids on a break from class ran past me. One or two called out to me with a “Hey Earthmate!” but ran off before I could return the greeting. 

I looked up at the sky as I walked, glad for the clear day. The sky was so… so clear. 

Then… why did I feel like something… wasn’t right…? 

Was something missing? Was it the clouds? Had I gotten so used to the clouds and rain that the clear sky felt odd to me? That seemed… true, to a point. But there was something more, something… something I felt like I needed to be worried about. 

“You looking for something?” a dry voice asked. 

I stumbled a step. Rooty stood in the entrance of the general store with a roll in his mouth and his arms full of books. He raised a white eyebrow at me. “Whud?” he asked around the roll. 

He moved to pass by me. I watched him leave and watched as the children surrounded him asking if those were new books that he’d read to them. A smile came to my face. Rooty was a good man, no matter how gruff he tried to seem. 

I entered the cozy interior of the general store and looked around. Ugnam wasn’t at his usual post at the service counter. I started looking between shelves of things and goods. “Ugnam?” I called. “It’s-- It’s Elle. Jeff said you were l--.” Ugnam seemed to materialize out of nowhere between the rows of shelves stocked with sweets and kids toys less than six inches in front of me. “L-looking for me?” My voice rose about two octaves as my gaze had to travel from his chest to his face. He had pulled his hair up into a high ponytail. With the hair away from his face, I could make out the strong lines of his jaw and cheekbones. I felt my face burn as I stumbled back a step. 

“Oh, right,” Ugnam said, replacing a box of children’s books back on a high shelf. “I forgot I told him to get you.” He bent down to grab another box and place it beside the first. “Gimme just a minute to finish this-- meet me at the front counter.” 

Gratefully, I moved away and tried to gain control of myself. I took several deep breaths as I waited, hoping to stop the sudden samba my heart was trying to beat out. Luckily, I managed to be presentable when Ugnam came back to the counter and took up his seat again. 

“So… what’s up?” I asked after he didn’t broach any subject. 

He looked at me. The look he gave me was searching, like he was weighing something in his mind again. I got the feeling that this was the look I hadn’t been able to see the night before. 

“Have you seen Micah?” he asked at length. 

I blinked. “Ah, no, actually. He’s probably waiting for me somewhere.” I rubbed the back of my head. “He does that without telling me apparently. Something about being part of the tutorial? Or something?” He had said we were almost done, hadn’t he? Or else, shouldn’t we be? Surely he had to be getting back to his family soon. 

Ugnam hummed, resting his elbows on the counter and cupping one hand around his face, turning to look away for a moment. “He’s waiting for you at the shrine.” His face was impassive, but there was a muscle twitching between his eyebrows that made me pause. 

“Oh.” I said. His tone didn’t seem to match his words. He seemed… discomfited by something. But he wasn’t bringing it up. Did  _ I _ have the option to bring that up? “Uh… thanks,” I said finally. “I’ll go find h--.”

He snapped his gaze back to me. His eyes, intense and piercing, held mine. “I don’t think you should,” Ugnam said. He didn’t change from his casual posture, but I could see the tenseness in his shoulders and arms. “Don’t go look for him, Elle.” 

My eyebrows pushed together. “But why?” 

He tried to smile lightly, like he did when he was ‘just offering his opinion’, but it fell too sharply across his tensed features. “It’s dangerous.” 

I felt worry start to creep into my mind. What did he mean? Was Micah in danger? What could be so dangerous that Ugnam wouldn’t want me to help Micah with? “What do you mean?” 

“There are things you don’t know about this town,” Ugnam said, finally sitting up and folding his arms across his chest. “Are you sure you don’t want to keep it that way? You might be happier that way.” 

“I want to know,” I said firmly. I stepped up, closer to the counter. “I know about the runeys-- I’m going to get them back.” 

Both of Ugnam’s eyebrows shot up. He stared at my face for a long moment, his gaze darting from one of my eyes to the other as he read my resolve. “You really think you can?” he asked. “Truly?” 

“I will. Micah told me what I need to do to get them back. And I’ll do it. Whatever it takes, I’m going to bring the spirits back to this land.” I felt firm in this resolve, firmer than I had felt about anything else in my brief memory of existence. 

Slowly and clearly, Ugnam dropped the next bomb. “What if it costs your life?” He asked with a tone of finality. 

I stared at the counter. There was a warning written against thievery tacked down to the wood of the countertop. 

My life? Would I give my life for this town? Truth be told, I didn’t have much of a life to give. But if I was willing to spend every day of the rest of my life fighting for the well-being of this town, would it really be that much different from physically laying down my life? 

“Yes,” I said simply. I lifted my gaze to meet his. His expression didn’t change, but rather hardened. “I would give my life if I had to. I might not have much of it that I remember, but I want to help. I have to help. I absolutely have to.” 

Pain flashed across Ugnam’s features, but he hid it as quickly as it came. He sighed, looking down at the counter and away from me. His hands were tense, his shoulders starting to tremble. 

I saw then, what he was worried about. 

“Thank you, Ugnam,” I said gently. He looked up at me. He seemed so much older than he actually was. “I know you want to protect the people in this town, even me, a complete stranger, but I know this is something I’ve got to do. I can feel it.” 

He gritted his teeth, bracing his hands against the counter. He seemed to be fighting tears. “You’re going to get yourself killed,” he said with a tight voice. “You’re so…  _ stupid _ .” 

My heart sank. That’s not what I had been hoping to hear. I shrugged. “Maybe,” I said. “I haven’t tried yet. The most dangerous thing I’ve done is gone to see Will’s juggling act. Have some faith in me, maybe I’ll manage to survive.” 

“Is there really nothing I can say to convince you otherwise?” Ugnam asked. He seemed to be begging me, pleading with me to change my mind. “Elle, this could…. This could take away the chance at life that you’ve recovered.”

It made me pause. It was true. I had only just begun, I knew so little about this town, let alone this world. But I knew I couldn’t back down. I stood firm. “No. I’m going to do it. I’m going to save this land.” 

“You are going after the monsters?” 

Both Ugnam and I stiffened at the new voice. I turned at the sound of footsteps against the wood flooring and saw Zaprina enter the room, carrying with her that serene air that seemed to follow her.

“Zaprina,” Ugnam said, standing up. He sounded like he was getting ready to defend himself. “A-.”

She waved a hand, interrupting him as she came to stand beside me. She examined me carefully before turning her attention to Ugnam. “I thought you might be doing something stupid,” she told him. A smile pulled on one corner of her mouth. “And I was right.” 

She put a hand on my shoulder. “Go, Elle.” she said, nodding toward the door. “Go do what you must. You have our support.” She shot another glance at Ugnam. “ _ I am correct?” _

Ugnam seemed to deflate under her stare. “Yeah,” he said. “We’ll support you-- the whole town will.” 

Zaprina watched him for a moment, reading his body language. She probably noticed the new slump in his posture or the defeat written in the way he held his arms. “We will also worry for you,” she said to me, translating for Ugnam. “And we will await the stories of your adventures eagerly. You must tell us if there are any things we can do for your help.” 

“To help you,” Ugnam corrected her, his gaze staying on her face for a long moment before turning back to me. He looked at my face for a long, charged moment. “Let us know if you need anything.” 

I blinked, surprised at his sudden change. “I--- okay.” I nodded, gathering my strength. “Right, yeah, I will.” I smiled at both of them. Ugnam still seemed only just resigned to the idea, but unlikely to try to fight Zaprina on it. “Thanks!” 

I took off toward the shrine, but thanks to one of those ‘plot devices’ I was still able to hear their conversation after I left. 

“She is willing to be fine,” Zaprina said to Ugnam. “You are worried too much.” 

“Going to be,” he said without thinking. He collapsed into his seat and folded his arms to pillow his head against the counter. He sighed. “And I know, you’re right, Prina, but… She’s just barely started-- what if she--”

“What if she wins?” Zaprina interrupted. “What if she truly can do it? She believes she can-- do you doubt her?” 

“I don’t have any reason yet to believe that she’ll do any better than any of the others,” he said, rolling his head to meet her gaze. He sighed again at her unyielding posture. His head slumped down, his nose pressed against the wood of the counter. 

“Give her time and let her try,” Zaprina said. She placed a hand on his head. “You are a good boy, Ugnam. And I am sure at some point she will need your help, but you cannot stop her from achieving her destined outcome.” 

Ugnam cracked a smile, looking up at her. Fondness covered his face like fruit stains at a pie eating contest. “Prina, when you call me a good boy it sounds like you’re talking to a dog.”

She made a face, removing her hand so she could irritatedly place her hands on her hips. “It does not-- I heard the Rutabaga say the same thing to his small ones.” 

Ugnam stood and stretched. He watched her with one eye open. “Well, yeah, it’s okay for kids. But for adults it’s a bit weird, y’know?” 

The plot device faded and I found myself standing in front of the forest entrance without any clear idea of how I had gotten there. I made my way up the steps, unsure of what I might face at the top, but absolutely resolute in my certainty that I would face whatever it was with every fiber of my being. 

All that fire and determination carried me up the steps. I realized I didn’t have a weapon, so I pulled my sickle out. It was sharp enough, right? Whatever monsters Zaprina had mentioned and whatever had Ugnam so spooked would quail before my mighty level 2 farming skills. 

And in true Laine fashion, I found myself falling to my knees as I stood at the top of the stairs, the entrance to the shrine pavilion. 

“M...Micah?” I asked, incredulous. 

The man in question was sitting on the steps of the shrine with a fluffy round monster. I recognized the shape of it as the same kind of monster I had seen on my first night in Laine. They seemed to be… talking? Micah had been gesticulating as he spoke in that energetic way he did, but… but the monster seemed to be nodding? And responding? 

Micah looked up when I called his name. “Oh! Elle!” he smiled, but it was a bit strained. I saw the monster also react, tensing its limbs as if to bolt into the woods behind the shrine. 

“It’s alright,” he said. “She’s here to help, I promise.” He made calming motions with his hands, as if to tell the little fluff ball to settle down. 

I slowly made my way closer to the odd pair. The monster, while still spooked, didn’t move from Micah’s side. It eyed me cautiously and made a low bleating sound. 

Micah nodded. “That’s fair,” he said. He glanced at me, “Elle, put the sickle away. Just for now. It’s a ceasefire.” He seemed to be trying to convey something to me nonverbally.

I blinked, lowering my sickle out of confusion. “Wh-- it’s a what?” 

“A ceasefire,” Micah repeated patiently. “Put the sickle away. We’re all friends here.” 

I kept my eyes locked on the creature as I stowed my sickle back in my inventory. The monster seemed to relax once the tool was out of sight, but I could still see the agitated twitch of it’s fluffy tail. 

“Hey,” Micah said to the monster. “She’s fine, it’s as I said-- she’s with me, she’s safe.” 

The monster bleated again. It was a short, abrupt kind of sound. It’s ears twitched. 

“No, she’s not,” Micah nodded as if agreeing. “She’s different, but she’s an earthmate, like me.” 

I blinked at Micah. He was an earthmate? Was he the one who had been telling everyone that I was one too? 

The monster bleated. 

“No,” Micah replied firmly. “It’ll be different-- it won’t be like then, I give you my word.” 

The monster mussed the fur around its face and bleated loudly. It stomped its large, floppy feet on the smooth stone of the pavilion. 

Micah straightened himself. “Hey, I gave you my word. You can’t just assume--.” 

The monster bleated loud enough that I flinched away from it. It stomped its feet several more times, bleating in quick succession. Micah tried to calm it, but that made the bleating even louder. 

It charged at me. I braced against the stone of the pavilion. I saw the monster collide and felt the wind get knocked out of my lungs. The pavement hit the back of my head as I collapsed with a sickening  _ thunk _ . My ears rang. My vision went dark.

 

My eyes opened. I woke up in the clinic. Micah was sitting with his head lowered in one of the chairs at my bedside. I could hear voices on the other side of the curtain, but I didn’t take the time to figure out who they were. 

“Micah?” I said. I tried to speak softly so that if he were sleeping that my voice wouldn’t wake him up. 

He wasn’t sleeping. He lifted his head and smiled a little wearily. The skin around his eyes was swollen and beneath his eyes, the skin was dark and ashen. “Hey,” he said in that same soft tone. “Congratulations- you finished your tutorial.” 

I blinked at him. “Huh?”

He twisted his hands together where they hung between his knees. He winked half-heartedly. “You’re done! I’ll be out of town by tomorrow, but I’ll stop by on occasion to check up on you.” He sat back against his seat and folded his hands across his stomach with his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. “Maybe I’ll bring my family next time.” 

I make some indiscernible noise that could have been any sound in the phonetic alphabet. He couldn’t be done-- the tutorial couldn’t be done! Not now, there were too many questions! “But what was that thing?” I asked after spluttering. I tried to sit up and my head started to spin. I ignored it. “What did you mean by a ceasefire? What the heck is an earthmate?!”

Micah stood up quickly, coming to my side and grabbing my arm. I didn’t understand why until I felt my body regain its balance. “Take it easy,” he said gently. “That wooly got you pretty good.” 

“Wooly?” What the heck was a wooly? “You mean that monster with the fur?” 

Micah grimaced but pulled it off as a half-hearted smile. “Y-Yeah. That one.” He released a long breath, closing his eyes tightly. “So… uh… are you ready for some exposition?” 

I blinked, but thankfully he didn’t really need my answer to continue. 

“So…. Woolies, yeah? They’ve been like… a stable part of the community for millennia-- they’re nearly as old as Native Dragons themselves. They just… are a lot weaker than Native Dragons.”

_ Native Dragons _ . That struck a chord somewhere in my locked memories. “Micah- Micah, wait what are Native Dragons?”

He either didn’t hear me or was so neck-deep in exposition that he couldn’t stop now. “Woolies have usually been okay with assisting earthmates and others who they deem worthy, but there’s been…” He made a kind of waving gesture with his arms, “a recent  _ movement  _ among the woolies.” He tapped his fingers against a wooden tabletop with every syllable. “They’ve realized that once a human or elf or earthmate or whatever has befriended them enough to take them away,” he sighed, “the woolies are then usually forgotten and used as farm hands instead of treasured as the friends that they are.” 

I blinked several times. Micah didn’t seem to notice my confusion. He began pacing up and down the length of the clinic.

“It started in Selphia, Lest contacted me.” He seemed to be talking more to himself than to me. The heck, I didn’t even know what a Lest was. “But then I heard from… some… some people in Sharance. And  _ they  _ told me not to get involved, so naturally, I had to go investigate and that led me here and…” His shoulders slumped. He turned from his pacing to face me.

I had no idea what my face looked like, but I’m certain that Micah didn’t care. He held his breath for a moment before speaking. 

“The Woolies are revolting.” he said with a tone of finality. “They want human decimation, and they won’t listen to elves or earthmates about trying to reach a compromise.” 

“ _ Ooh _ ,” I said, clapping my hands together as I began to understand. “You meant revolting as in ‘starting a revolt’-- I thought you just meant they were gross.” 

He made a face. The expression was half affront and half agreement. He moved closer to my bedside and tapped on the mattress. “Elle,” he said solemnly. “I… I can’t interfere here. Whatever else happens will have to be your decision.” 

“M-My… but what will I do? Do I just fight every wooly I see?” 

Micah shrugged, sighing. “Honestly? I don’t know.” He smiled faintly. “I told you, after the tutorial I know absolutely nothing of use to you.” He snapped and clapped his hands together in an anxious kind of twitch, looking away to dispel the tension of the moment. 

“If I had to guess,” he said, bouncing on his toes. “I’d bet that you’ll get someone else in town pretty soon to give you a hint. Or maybe one of the other villagers? Even one of the kids might have a request for you that leads you to where you’re supposed to go.” He patted my hand consolingly. “Just be sure to talk to everyone every day, it’ll come up. You might just have to be patient.”

That made me feel off-balanced. It was like having all the motivation in the world, but no direction. “O...kay.” I said finally. I stared out at the window on the other side of the wall. I could see some of the townsfolk milling about outside Charlie’s just next door. I thought I made out Charlie himself and Rooty right next to him. Rooty seemed to have a child riding his shoulders, or else he had gained an extra foot in height. 

“You’re going to do fine,” Micah said. “You’ll manage. We’ve all been there. Me, Kyle, Raguna-- And you know your situation isn’t half as bad as Aden and Sonja’s! You have your own body!” 

The listing of random names reminded me. “Micah, what’s an earthmate?” 

“Hmm?” he blinked, his blue eyes growing even wider. “An earthmate? That’s what you are, didn’t you know? Y’know powers of earth and elements and stuff? Magic...things?” 

I blinked. “I’m sorry, what?” 

Micah chuckled. He shook his head, the blond hairs bouncing around. “It’s weird, and magic, and you’ll learn as you go, I promise. There are probably some books somewhere that explain everything. Do you have a bookshelf? Or maybe they’re at the schoolhouse.” 

“Knock knock,” Razim’s voice came from the other side of the curtain. “I heard voices- is it alright if I come in?” 

I glanced at Micah and he glanced at me, both of us expecting the other to respond first. “Uh, yeah, come on in!” we both said at the same time, even though Razim was already coming in and hadn’t waited for an answer. 

He was still as startlingly handsome as I remembered. But it wasn’t as disarming as it had been the first time I’d seen him. Maybe it was the weight of the morning’s… festivities. 

“Elle!” He smiled brightly. “It’s good to see you up and about! Your friend here was worried about you-- said you got attacked by one of those things that have been taking the townsfolk!” He laughed, a deep pleasant sound.

Or rather, it would have been. If I hadn’t felt my blood freeze. Razim kept talking, something about how impressed he was that I survived the attack, but my brain wasn’t processing his words. I glanced from the doctor’s jubilant face to the downcast face of my tutorial guide. 

“They’ve been…  _ taking  _ people?” I asked in a horrified whisper. 

I addressed my words to Micah, but I must have interrupted Razim mid-sentence. 

“Hm? Oh, right, you’re new to town.” he sighed deeply, his whole form seeming to deflate. “We’ve been having problems with the woolies for months!” Razim came to fiddle with some instruments on a table. “That’s why Rooty had to start the orphanage. The woolies kept taking the farmers who came here.” 

I felt my stomach sink in horror. “You don’t mean--.”

“Most of the orphans are their children,” Razim nodded. “They and their spouses were taken, usually within two years of their arrival.” 

His words hung in the air for what felt like an eternity. The reality of what Ugnam had been trying to tell me finally hit me. I felt my whole body freeze over. My hands clenched the sheets I was covered in. 

“Ra- _ zim _ ,” Tara’s voice preceded her entry from the front of the clinic. 

“Huh?!” Razim jumped. He made a face, but it hardly registered in my mind. “What? What did I do?” 

Tara whacked him on the back of his head. He flinched and winced, rubbing the spot with a gloved hand. “She’s a patient, new in town, and an earthmate? And you have the absolute gall to tell her about the local boogie-man?!” Her tone continued to rise until she was shouting over Razim’s head. 

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Micah said, raising his hands in surrender. “There’s no need--.”

Tara ignored him. She jabbed a sharp finger into the front of Razim’s blue lab coat. “You need to rethink your bedside manner-- go get back to your studies.”

Razim made a placating gesture and slowly backed behind the curtain. I watched him go numbly, thinking about the dilapidated farm and the entries from Cucumber. Had Cucumber been one of those farmers taken by the woolies? Was I living in the home of a dead man?

“Ignore him,” Tara said, coming to help me sit up properly. She took some vitals, checking my pulse and eyes. I didn’t flinch away or react. Tara’s face softened. “Really, Elle, ignore him. Don’t worry about what’s happened in the past.” 

“Those people,” I choked out. 

“Elle,” Tara said sharply. “It’s not your problem. We-- the town-- we’re managing as best we can. Rooty’s taking care of the kids, Razim and I have taken over for the old doctor. We’re fine.” 

“But the woolies--.” 

She smiled. It was a small motion with soft eyes. “We take precautions. That’s why we have the curfew. Ugnam likes to keep a watch for any stragglers left out after dark. We look out for each other, Elle. And we’ll look after you too.” She put her hand on my shoulder. 

“Elle’s going to have to fight them,” Micah said, his voice soft. “She’s here to save this town, bring the runeys back.”

“Runeys?” Tara blinked She glanced between me and Micah. Her hand tightened on my shoulder sharply and she whipped her head to examine me. “Wait, you’re going to fight them?! The Woolies?! There’s an army of them!” She caught herself growing fearful. She shook her head. “Elle,” she sighed. She released my shoulder. “You’re new to town, you’re not a part of this mess--.”

“But I want to be,” I said softly. I focused on my blankets and tried to put my words together. I could still feel what I had felt at the shrine. Despite my fears and misgivings, I opened my mouth again. “I want… to be part of this town. I want to help.”

I met Tara’s green gaze. She looked surprised. The air in the room was electric. “I’m going to protect this town  _ and _ bring back the runeys.” 

She sighed as if that was something she had heard before. “Elle--.”

“No, Tara, you’re not hearing me.” It felt like static electricity was tingling on my skin. I waited until she looked at me. “I am  _ going to protect this town.”  _ I swung my legs over the side of the bed, glad to find that my head wasn’t spinning. I felt sore and low on stamina, but I could still start. “Do you know if either Ugnam or Geoff sell any weapons?” 

“Geoff will have them,” Micah said behind me. I turned to look at him. He was looking considerably more optimistic.  

“You’re not in any condition to go off fighting!” Tara said. 

“I’m not going off to war right  _ now _ ,” I said patiently. “But I have to start somewhere.” I smoothed my clothes. “I’ll train until I’m strong enough to take on an army alone. Then, I will.” 

Micah and Tara both studied me silently. I met the gaze of the resident doctor. “Am I free to go, Tara?” 

“Uh, yeah,” she said, sounding a little defeated. “You’re all good to go. Get some rest and… well, I guess telling you to take it easy it sort of moot at this point, but… yeah. You’re free,” she motioned to the curtain. 

I glanced at Micah. “You coming?” 

He shook his head. “I’m gonna stay here and talk with Tara for a minute. You’ll probably get hit with a heavy plot device when I’m about to leave town, so don’t worry,” he grinned. “You’ll get your tutorial closure.” 

I nodded and left the room. To my surprise, there was no plot device to further my actions. I was completely and wholly on my own. I moved forward, the choice was my own. I found myself smiling. 

I moved forward, toward Geoff’s smithy. 

 

It was Jeff who ended up helping me pick out a weapon. He let me try out each one on a training dummy behind their shop. He gave me direct criticism, helping me to know the basics of form for each weapon. I tried dual blades. I tried a short sword, a long sword, and ax and a hammer. I tried the dual blades again. I tried the short sword again. I tried a spear. I tried fighting with my bare fists. 

“Don’t… Don’t do that,” Jeff said with a wince as my fists made contact with the rough fabric of the dummy. “You are definitely not strong enough to fight with your bare hands.”

“Then let me try the gloves!” I huffed. 

He met my gaze flatly. “... No.” 

I whined for a bit longer before admitting defeat and picking up the dual blades again. “Alright, Jeff, I’m debating between these and the short sword. Which do you think I’ll be better at?” 

He seemed to hesitate. He glanced between the two. “I do not think you should be without a shield,” his gaze hovered over the short sword, lying on a bench against the wall. He sighed. ‘But you show greater promise with the dual blades.” 

I made a face. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too,” I sighed. I swung the dual blades around experimentally. I glanced at Jeff. His eyebrows were raised and his mouth lowered in a surprised expression. “What?” 

“I…” He glanced away from me. “I expected you to disregard the shield. Why wouldn’t you just take the dual blades, as you thought?” 

I rested the flat of the blades on my shoulders. Probably a stupid thing, but my wrists were hurting. “But you’re right-- I’m new to fighting. A shield would help my defense, but it’ll be just as hard to learn how to balance a sword and shield as it will be to learn how to use the dual blades effectively.” 

Jeff smiled, taking the blades from my hands gently. “Don’t do that. You’re not trained with these, and you might cut your head off.” He handed them back to me with their blades hanging down. “You should train more with these as your primary weapon. If you train well, you will be twice as lethal, even if you will lack any kind of defense.” 

Surprised, I took the swords in my hands again. I grinned up at him. “Alright! I’ll do it!” I stowed the weapons in my inventory and paid Jeff his fee. He seemed to look at the money uneasily before stowing it in his apron.

“You can train here whenever you like, but you’ll gain more experience if you practice fighting actual monsters.” He ran a hand through his hair, pulling them up even more stick straight than they already were. “Your blade is coated with this thing, it’s a kind of magic. It’ll send the monsters to the forest of beginnings.” 

That made me pause. I was grateful for it. But… “What about woolies?” I asked. “Will it send them back as well?” 

“Woolies?!” His voice turned sharp. “You aren’t ready to fight woolies.” 

“No, no, I get that,” I said, waving a hand. “That’s why I’m practicing. But-- When I fight woolies, would I need to use a different weapon?” 

Jeff shuffled his feet, kicking a rock a few inches away. “...I guess, yeah. You would. But we don’t carry anything that doesn’t have the magic on it, it’s like a safety procedure.” 

I watched as Jeff continued to shuffle around. His lips were pressed in a tight, thin line. 

“You don’t think I should fight them?” I asked. 

He looked up with that same surprised expression. “I… I’m not sure,” he admitted. He started picking up the other weapons. “I think they're hurting people. But I also think they've been hurt. If they refuse peace, what can we do but fight them?”

He looked at me with some sadness. He dumped all the weapons into a storage bin. “I'm glad I'm not the one who has to do it, is all.”

I found myself wondering if he'd think less of me for fighting the woolies, but I lacked sufficient courage to ask him. 

 

I entered my house later that evening, after having watched the sunset with Will, Juliette, and Hammond. I was tired and a little emotionally drained. I doubt I had been very good company.

As the door closed behind me, a plot device flooded my vision and I could see Micah standing at the end of Laine Lane, his back to the forest as he looked back over the town. I could still see the dark circles under his eyes. 

“Bye, Elle,” he said into the wind. “Good luck.”

I smiled and the plot device faded, leaving me alone in my home once again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession: I've played almost exactly twenty minutes of Rune Factory 3. I know almost nothing about Micah's story arc. Anything I know I know courtesy of my sister who has been telling me I should play it for like three years now.


	4. Spring 4, Year 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the tutorial over, Elle must grow accustomed to her autonomous lifestyle.

With the tutorial over, I found that my drive to write in my journal was somewhat diminished. This day felt just like the day before with only slight variations. Rooty still complained about everything. Will was as charming as ever, Hammond just as clumsy. 

I watered my crops, picked the weeds, and cleared more of the back of the farm. I ate a fish I grilled myself while sitting against the cliff. I listened to the waves crashing against the rocks below me. I could see just around the cliff to my right where Marnie and Zaprina were sitting on the dock with a bag of food between them. 

Later, I practiced on the dummy behind Jeff's house. It didn't go well. I developed quite a few yellow bruises blossoming into a deep purple-black on my arms and legs. 

“It’s the price you pay for improvement,” Jeff had said, offering his help in applying the salve to my arms. 

Tara chewed me out later when I came by to buy more recovery potions. Something about how my neglect would cause me to collapse. She gave me bandages soaked in more of the same salve that Jeff had used. I could feel the knots in my muscles relaxing.

I passed Tom on my way out. Unthinking, he slapped me on the back in greeting. I winced, lost my balance and fell to the ground. He apologized and helped me to my feet and Tara came out to snap at him as well. 

I passed Ugnam on my way to the shrine. I called a reminder about the flower festival. He seemed less jovial than he had been before I decided to go after the woolies. I hadn’t told him about what happened with Micah. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn’t want him to worry. 

I visited Salina at the shrine. She complained about Rooty while offering me tea. She didn’t have me fooled though. I could see the smile on her face when she thought I wasn’t looking. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because let's be honest, this is how it goes guys. It'll pick up soon though. The plot will thicken. But first! She must complete all the beginning requests, right? Someone needs her to ship a turnip. Someone else needs her to buy some rice. Of course, this is all dependent on her knowing where the request board/ journal thing is.


	5. Spring 5, Year 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle continues to learn more about the townsfolk of Laine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh I haven't touched this in a while but it's now my goal in life to finish it before RF5 officially comes out. because OH MY HECK RF5 IS ACTUALLY IN PRODUCTION???

I spent a fair amount of the morning on my farm. My crops were finally coming in. They looked like they might need another day or two, but I got some extra fertilizer for them, and to prepare for the next crop. 

Will came by with Hammond and a basket of fresh fruit from Ugnam’s shop. They talked with me about the town. It was mostly just local gossip and griping. Rooty had made a comment about Hammond’s attempt at cookies for the kids. 

“I  _ tried! _ ” Hammond said, burying his face in his hands as Will and I both laughed. “Why don’t they make the salt and the sugar bags look different?” 

Will was trying to hid his laugh behind a hand, but his shoulders gave him away. “I realize it must have been traumatic, Ham, but they  _ are  _ marked.” 

Hammond shot his friend a glare as I unsuccessfully tried to stop laughing. 

“Jeff seemed grateful for them,” Will offered, a bright gleam in his orange eyes. 

Hammond’s face fell into an expression of dry disbelief. “Gee, thanks. He wanted to use them on the forge-- he thought they were lumps of  _ unrefined ore _ .” 

I fell off the steps of my own home into the dirt as I clutched my sides. Both of them rushed over, trying not to laugh as well. I accepted their help in standing up. 

Soon after, they had to make their departure. They told me to come visit them at the restaurant later. I waved them off, putting that onto my mental planner for the day. 

The remainder of the afternoon was spent fishing. Zaprina kept me company for a little while. She pointed out that the tremor in my arm was likely scaring the fish away. She showed me a technique to keep it steady without using my hands by balancing the rod in the crook of my knee. 

I skipped by my farm and dumped the fish into my shipping bin. I was making steady profits, but every bit helped at this point. I wanted to save up enough money to get more seeds from out of town. 

With my spare time, I went to the orphanage and visited Rooty. He was cleaning up the kitchen and set me to work cleaning the front living area. Everything was tidy, but in the way that it looked like children had done the cleaning. The books where precariously stacked and toys were haphazardly piled in a chest beside a large armchair. I organized them and swept the dust away from the rug on the floor. I dusted the counter tops and fluffed the pillows on the sofa. 

Salina came in just as I was replacing some old candle stubs and started chewing Rooty out for taking advantage of me. She was getting in his face and he was holding back his laughter as the kids came back in from the school. They crowded around the pair and asking them if Salina was staying for dinner and if she’d read them stories. 

Salina, looking flustered, had no choice but to agree. Her two boys pulled her along to help Rooty in the kitchen. I laughed and made my escape. 

I made my way to the cliffside to watch the sunset. Razim was already there eating a box dinner. I offered to share my fish, he declined politely. We sat in a companionable silence. Razim asked about my past, and had to be reminded that I had amnesia. The conversation turned to his studies. He admitted that Tara was already a full-fledged doctor. He said he had to take a year off to help with his family. 

“My dad was getting sick. My mom was in a panic,” Razim admitted. The bench creaked as he shifted to tuck his legs beneath him. His shoulders seemed to slump forward. “I went back-- Tara wanted to come too, but I convinced her to finish her studies. Maybe she’d find something to help him, you know?” His smile faded slightly. “Well… she came home for the funeral. I returned to classes the next semester.” 

He rubbed a hand over his scalp and smiled self-consciously. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be dumping all this on you.” 

“Not at all,” I said, turning away to look out over the horizon. The sun was blazing a path in gold across the sea. Only small waves crashed against the cliff face. It seemed like the sea, too, was winding down for the day. “Like I’ve said to others, I don’t remember my past. It’s nice to hear about the pasts of everyone else.” 

“It’s like a  _ tabula rasa _ ,” Razim suggested. 

“A what?” I blinked. 

He put aside his empty box and leaned toward me from where I sat on the ground. He was smiling excitedly as he spoke. “It’s a blank slate,” Razim explained. “You get to look at everything with clear eyes. Whatever you do with life, you get to make it yourself from here on out.” His smile softened and his eyebrows tilted upward. “It’s probably not much of a comfort, especially with everyone talking about their pasts, but a lot of people would consider it a gift to be completely reborn in the world.” 

I hummed and traced around a rock in the sand. I looked up at him, but I was focused on the rocks behind him, my eyes out of focus and imagining a world where I had chosen to forget my past and start over.

“It might feel like a second chance,” I said slowly. “but I don’t remember my first.” I drew some stick figures in the sand, maybe they were subconsciously the family I didn’t remember. Maybe they were Salina and Rooty and the orphans. “Who’s to say I’m not going to make the same mistakes that I made the first time?” I sighed, looking out to the late evening waves. 

Would it really matter if I ever got my memories back? If I remembered everything, would I be able to leave Laine? 

I realized that he hadn’t responded. I got to my feet and smiled, offering a hand to help him up. “It’s getting dark,” I said. “I’ll see you back to town.” 

I walked him back to the clinic and the topic switched to the flower festival. He hadn’t been able to attend it before due to his studies and his family. He was looking forward to it. From the porch of the clinic he thanked me for seeing him home.

It was dark and I knew it was past curfew. I pulled out my dual blades and swung them as I made my way home. Ugnam nodded to me when I turned past his shop. He was on the night watch, but he seemed prepared to trust my skill in getting me home. 

And it did. All the way to bed. 


	6. Spring 6, Year 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle is finally able to harvest her crops. She starts training more with her weapons, preparing to face the wooly army. She also spends more time with the townsfolk.

My crops were ready for harvesting. It was a rather uneventful day after that. I fished. I was finally able to see Charlie’s wife. She was a sweet woman with a kind demeanor. 

I saw Greta again. Passed by her in the woods, but I didn’t get a chance to talk to her, but she waved from where she was tending to her chickens at the edge of the woods. 

I practiced on the dummy with my dual blades. I still didn’t feel like I made any progress, but at least my arms were starting to feel less sore. They seemed stronger, more able to take the force with every blow I landed on the mannequin. 

Geoff invited me to join him and Jeff for lunch. I accepted the offer and joined them for a hardy meal of vegetable stew. It was pretty quiet aside from technical conversations. The two men were kind, but straightforward and blunt. Geoff offered to teach me how to forge my own tools and weapons. He sold me an old forge and had Jeff help me carry it home. 

I didn’t really have space for it. Jeff said I could leave it outside and maybe set up an overhead covering to keep most of the rain off. He helped me to set it up, not trusting me to do it adequately on my own. 

As we walked back to the smithy, he brought up the festival. “Are you going to go?” he asked. 

I nodded. “Yeah, I think I’d like to. It sounds like a good time.” 

“That’s good,” Jeff said. “It’ll be better if you’re there.” 

 

I spent a better part of the afternoon around the Shrine. Salina was tending to the shrine, replenishing the water bowls and polishing the banisters. She told me how her boys’ parents had been her niece and nephew-in-law. They had died before the woolies started making their appearance. They had been caught in a storm and their boat was lost at sea. 

Rooty came by with a few books from the school house. I left as they began arguing about something. It seemed like a private matter. I didn’t want to intrude. 

I went to Charlie’s for dinner. Hammond was playing the piano. Juliette joined me at the table and told me about how she, Will, and Hammond met. It was a very colorful story and I got the impression she was exaggerating. 

Will offered to walk me back to my farm as the sun was setting. I asked him about his juggling, he admitted that it was mostly just low-level magic with a bit of glitter thrown in. He seemed amused by his own antics. 

We reached my farm and he waited for me to open the door. “Hey, Elle?” he called my name before I could disappear inside. 

“Hmm?” 

He tilted his head, his hands stuck in his pockets. He seemed… tenser than normal. His voice wasn’t as light as usual. “Are you coming to the flower festival next week?” 

I smiled, a little confused. “Yeah, I think I’ve already told you. I’ll definitely be there.”

His smile grew broader. “I just wanted to be sure. I’ll be looking forward to it.”

He turned and left, lighting a single fireball just above his hand to light his way back into town. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imma be real with y'all. I've had a lot of these chapters saved and just never posted them? I mean, *i* could read them so I kinda just... forgot?


End file.
